Of Flesh and Bone
by Aeolian Mode
Summary: Inquisitor Khyran, Varric, Solas, and The Iron Bull bring Cole on a journey to find Rhys and Evangeline, hoping it would bring peace to the lost boy who once called them his friends. Unfortunately, it proves to be more difficult than anyone bargained. Spoilers for Cole's personal quest and Asunder. Cover art is mine.
1. Khyran: Guilt

**ONE**

Nobody asked him what he wanted.

The decision had been made for him. Khyran remembered how Solas and Varric bickered about what was best for Cole, but no one asked the boy what he thought. It was his identity, after all. Shouldn't it have been his choice?

Inquisitor Khyran pinched the bridge of his long nose and sighed. A heaviness grew beneath his sternum- a weight only guilt could bring. He was too accustomed to the power his title gave him, making split second decisions on behalf of his companions and taking advantage of their loyalty. He didn't think before he acted.

And it was Cole paying the price.

Khyran watched Cole where he sat on the ramparts, squinting through a haze of misty rain. The young man rocked himself, his head between his knees. His big hat obscured every inch of his face, but Khyran could guess what his eyes were like underneath: haunted, disturbed, unblinking. He had seen the look on Cole's face three days ago when they returned to Skyhold. Solas and Varric had each spoken to Cole in turn since then, but he had been unresponsive, save for complaining that it hurt.

Khyran thought he must've been sitting there for hours. He ascended the staircase to the ramparts, the rainfall masking his footsteps as he moved. He crept towards Cole until he reached an arm's breadth away from him. Cole didn't look up where he sat drenched in his dirty leathers.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. An echo of metal smashing metal carried out from the nearby smithy. Wind rustled through the forest beyond the fortress. When it became clear that Cole wasn't going to do anything, Khyran tentatively hoisted himself up on the wall and eased his legs over the edge. He folded his hands in his lap and gazed out beyond the conifers below them.

"Chest clenching, cracked, cradled- held heavy, hurting." A breathy voice from Cole broke the silence. "I choose without their choosing, stole freedom, and they cannot object. I'm a tyrant, taking, twisting… and they only follow because they must."

It bothered Khyran, being faced with Cole's disturbing ability to translate the pain of other minds into poetry. It was like listening to him read his diary out loud. Here were his fears and insecurities, unmasked and naked. Khyran rubbed at his unshaven chin and chewed his lower lip as he considered a reply. "You can still get in my head."

Cole said nothing. Back, forth, back, forth. He teetered rhythmically where he sat on the edge of the wall.

"Are you angry with me?"

Cole's rocking ceased. "I don't know." A pause. "Sometimes you make choices that hurt people. Sometimes you have no way to choose without hurting." He began rocking steadily again. "You have so much power over people's lives… it hurts you."

"It hurt you too. I'm sorry, Cole."

He didn't reply. Khyran watched him for a few minutes. Cole's hat drooped with the weight of the rainwater.

"You should come inside. You'll catch cold."

"I don't get sick."

"I'm not sure that is so impossible now, Cole."

The boy didn't move. "I feel… stolen. I stole him but he is stealing me. I don't know how real I was or if I am getting realer."

"You took the form of a dead apostate because you couldn't help him. But I think you're helping him now, Cole. You're giving him a new life. I think you've always been real."

"But am I *him*? Did I bring him back?"

Khyran shrugged feebly. "I don't know. I… I think so. I think you are helping him after all. Giving him a new life."

If it were possible for a spirit of compassion to possess a dead body and make it live, that would be a rudimentary way of explaining what Cole was. He had always been caught in a strange limbo between reality and the Fade, a unique anomaly in the world where rules could as easily be broken as studiously observed. He was wholly spirit and wholly flesh. For a time, he didn't know how to properly be either.

It was Khyran who made the split-second decision to push Cole out of the comfortable place occupying both worlds into the one *he* inhabited. Varric's insistence swayed him. Varric said the boy was meant to be human- that he longed to experience a renewed life in the body that could do so no longer. Solas had strongly objected, saying it would do nothing more than confuse and torment the spirit. Solas believed he could not truly change his nature- at least, not without grim consequences.

Khyran realized, in retrospect, that Solas was right. As usual. Cole suffered before his very eyes.

He had been biased and blind, believing that the human experience was worth trading Cole's comfort. He couldn't believe Cole would be happy, drifting through life largely unnoticed by anyone while performing so many thankless services. He feared Cole was doomed to be forgotten. But, seeing Cole now, Khyran wondered how he could've been such a fool. Who in their right mind would want to be *human*?

Khyran looked down at his own hands with disgust, scowling at the flesh lined with cracks and callouses. Humanity was detestable. Stinking, self-obsessed, easy to anger, plagued by such basic needs to eat and sleep and bathe. They were jealous, hateful, weak, fragile creatures. Khyran wondered if any person was capable of being truly selfless. Wasn't every action one took secretly for their own benefit, even under the guise of charity and heroics?

"…It's not… all bad like that… is it?" Cole asked miserably. Khyran's heart twisted at hearing the agony in the boy's voice. He shouldn't have allowed his thoughts to drift to such dark places. He wanted to help Cole, not give him more things to worry about.

The Inquisitor heaved a sigh. "No, of course not." He said. "There's… a lot more to being human. I'm just…"

"Guilt."

For the first time, Cole lifted his head to peer at Khyran, his large and vividly blue eyes barely visible beneath the shadow of his hat and drooping locks of straw-colored hair. Khyran wasn't sure if the wetness on his face were tears or rain.

"You pushed me into hurt… because you thought it was right. You regret it." His head dipped so Khyran couldn't see his eyes anymore. "Thank you."

Khyran didn't feel comforted. "You can't see the good things when you read a mind, right?"

Cole didn't reply.

Slowly, the Inquisitor slid off the wall and back onto his feet. "I can't reverse what I've done to you." He reached out to touch Cole's shoulder. "But I can show you the good things that make humans special. If you'll let me."

Khyran assumed Cole's silence meant he was simply thinking, not refusing. The Inquisitor waited for a response. Cole remained where he was, still rocking back and forth, not reacting to the hand on his shoulder.

"Cole?"

"It *hurts*." Cole whimpered. His voice was so small, he almost sounded like a child.

"What hurts?"

Cole's breaths quickened and he rocked faster. His head dipped lower between his knees and he tugged at the brim of his hat. "Guts gripping in the dark… longing to fill it, I tried eating the rats but they bit my shaking hands… searing, suffering silent, fear they'd come but never came, Maker, Maker left me to-!"

"Cole."

Khyran tried to drag the boy back to the present before he descended into panic. His grip tightened on Cole's shoulder. "You're not going to starve to death again. I won't let you, okay? Now you're going to come off that wall and walk with me to the tavern, or I'm going to carry you there myself." It was an order.

Cole lifted his head from between his knees and slid off the wall in one smooth motion. He straightened to full height, but still the hat obscured his face. Khyran himself was a rather lithe Mage, but Cole still managed to be thinner than him. Khyran wondered if it wasn't just because Cole was young. Having starved to death in a previous life might have given him a body to match, but it was hard to tell in his ragged leathers.

Khyran led him away, wondering how in Thedas he was going to make Cole believe that being human was worth the trouble.

* * *

The Inquisitor stepped inside the tavern followed by a sullen Cole. Khyran felt the warmth on his face, inhaled the scent of burning wood and spicy meats. The Herald's Rest, filled to bursting point with Inquisition soldiers, felt alive with chatter. It all blended together until Khyran heard one voice above the rest.

"...and then I told her, 'Honey. That's a nug.' The look on her face!"

The Iron Bull laughed uproariously as Varric finished his tale. The Chargers were all seated around the dwarf as he held their attention. They didn't notice him come in with Cole and Khyran considered this to his advantage. The fewer eyes boring into Cole the better. The fact that he could be seen so easily now wasn't doing him any favors.

Ordering Cole something to eat went painlessly enough, but just as Khyran was about to take the bowl and scoot to an unnoticed corner of the room, Varric spotted them from the crowded table nearby. He saw the Dwarf's eyes lingering on him. Khyran could tell from the temporary lull in boisterous conversation that he was about to say something to them. Cole hadn't gone anywhere near anyone for the past three days. To see that he, the Inquisitor, had been successful in bringing him to the tavern served enough of a surprise to warrant Varric's attention. Cole, however, seemed oblivious. He slid into the chair nearest to the corner of the room and perched on it like a sad raven. Rainwater dripped from his hair and trailed down what was visible of his face. Khyran joined him and set his bowl down in front of him.

"Do you remember eating? Before your first life died, I mean?" Khyran asked.

Cole shook his head a little. "Only… fleeting feelings. Like… a dream you can't quite remember." He hugged his knees up against his chest. "Everything from my life before is like that."

Nearby, Varric launched into a new story to entertain the Chargers. Something about a naive Elf girl and his various expensive endeavors to keep her from getting into trouble. Khyran had difficulty listening, as interesting as the story probably was. Every story Varric told from his time with Hawke bore interest to Khyran, but he simply couldn't spare the attention now. He folded his hands beneath his chin and watched Cole. "I suppose it would be good if you don't remember what starving feels like?"

"I remember what starving feels like." Cole replied, playing with the spoon in his bowl. He lifted it and uncertainly sniffed at its contents. "I-"

The tavern doors burst open. Cole and Khyran both turned to see who had entered.

A bedraggled and frantic Cullen stood at the entrance, scanning the room. A few moments later, he fixated on Khyran and made a beeline for him. His blond hair was greasier than usual, his tired eyes set in a grave stare. "You're needed in the war room." He said. "It's urgent."

A thousand questions sprang to the Inquisitor's mind at once, but he could ask none of them yet. He wouldn't doubt the urgency of the situation or make Cullen wait any longer than he had to. Khyran stood and gave Cole an apologetic look. "Will you be alright, Cole? This… may be a while."

Cole adjusted his feet where he perched on his chair. Though Khyran couldn't see his eyes, he could tell he was watching Cullen carefully. He opened his mouth to say something, but Cullen was already leaving, and Khyran followed. He gave Cole one last look over his shoulder before he disappeared outside.

Varric would take care of Cole. He was certain of it.


	2. Varric: Choices

**TWO**

Curly never let himself catch a break, always working himself sick. Even so, Varric usually saw him handle things with some level of tact and professionalism. When he burst into the tavern with such a frantic air about him, Varric wondered grimly if someone had died. The dwarf watched him leave with His Inquisitorialness and pursed his lips. Whatever happened, he was sure he'd hear about it eventually. He couldn't do anything about it right now.

What he **could** do something about, however, was the kid. He was sitting alone in the corner, more interested in staring at his food than he was eating it. The commotion Curly caused had turned some heads, and consequently, eyes fell on Cole. Chatter died down, replaced with whispering.

"Wonder what's got Cullen's panties in a knot." Tiny rumbled from where he sat, leaning back so that his chair was balanced on two legs. Varric wondered how the poor chair could even support his weight. The Qunari might as well have been hewn from stone, with limbs the size of tree trunks and a chest so broad Varric was almost jealous.

"Hey, Bull. Who's that?" Krem asked suddenly in his husky voice, squinting in the kid's direction.

"Who?" Tiny quirked a thick eyebrow.

"The one in the odd hat."

Tiny laughed in his usual loud, wheezy fashion. "We go through this every week, Krem. That's Cole. He lives in the rafters."

Krem blinked uncomprehendingly between Tiny and the kid. Varric felt a grimace spreading on his lips. The poor kid obviously didn't want to be seen, the way he pressed himself into the shadows. It didn't appear as though his desire to become invisible was working very well. Had he lost the power completely?

"I do remember something about him, come to think of it…" Krem muttered. "Feels like I dreamed it though." He paused, then added as an afterthought, "It was a good dream, whatever it was."

"Sounds about right." Tiny replied, taking a swig from his tankard. "Where's he been, anyway? Haven't seen him up in the rafters for days."

"We, uh. Went on a little… adventure with the kid earlier." Varric answered vaguely. "He's not in good sorts. I think I'm gonna talk to him for a bit, fellas."

Without waiting for a reply, Varric snatched up a breadroll from the table, pushed himself to a standing position, and crossed the room towards the kid. He slid into the chair across from Cole, folding his thick arms on the table. He wondered how Cole was doing now… but he knew better than to ask stupid questions. He placed the bread across from the kid. "That stuff tastes better when you dip the bread in it." He told him amiably.

Cole picked it up with a thumb and forefinger and examined it like one would examine an interesting rock. Varric patiently leaned back in his chair.

"Krem could see you. Did you want him to?" The Dwarf asked.

Cole shook his head. "Everyone can see me now. I feel their eyes on me as I pass. They stare at me all the time like I'm naked." He stopped looking at the bread and lifted his head enough to give Varric a penetrating look with those creepy eyes of his. "You're not sorry."

Varric blinked. "Huh?"

Cole went back to turning the bread in his hand, tilting his head at a bit of an angle as he looked at it. "Inquisitor Trevelyan was sorry."

"Shy Khy? He's sorry about everything. He can't step on an ant without being sorry about it." Varric chuckled.

"Sorry… you're not sorry but there's sorrow. Redder than red, jagged and jutting, needling into his mind and soul... moaning, mourning, madder than madness."

Varric stiffened a little in his chair. He had no idea what Cole was talking about before, but he knew exactly what he was talking about now. And he had no intention of discussing the matter.

"Hey, Kid. Focus. What am I not sorry about?"

Cole shuddered visibly. "You wanted me to be like this."

Varric understood now. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Kid bringing up the red lyrium threw him off. He massaged his broad forehead and gave a weary sigh."You were in a rage, Kid. We couldn't have reasoned with you and we had to act fast before you did something rash." He explained calmly. "I don't regret encouraging Khy. I think you'll like how life is now if you give it a chance."

Cole fell into silence. Varric could hear the Chargers talking at the table behind him, albeit more quietly than before. It didn't seem like they were discussing him and Cole, though, and that was at least heartening.

Then, Kid said, seemingly out of nowhere, "you let me hold Bianca. Back there. It meant something."

Varric felt the lines in his face soften. "Yeah." He recalled handing the crossbow to the kid. He had done it without giving it much thought. Looking back… well. Varric gave a little shrug at that, his attention drifting.

The minstrel Maryden began to play a slow tune nearby. Varric couldn't decide if he liked the song or not. It was sad- but the fact that it stirred his emotions made it a good story. He wished he was a musical sort. If he could play an instrument, he could tell stories without words. That was a power he sadly lacked.

Turning in his chair, he flagged down a barmaid and had her bring a bottle of mulled cider and two chalices. He filled both and slid one towards Cole. Kid didn't even notice it, absorbed in his thoughts. He was still holding the bread in one hand- probably forgot about it completey.

"When I write books, there has to be bad things that happen to my characters. They have to go through hard times and suffer a lot." Varric began.

"Characters," The kid echoed. "Fake people. You made them up in your head but other people can see them too. They're real, but not real. Almost like me."

"You're real, Cole. _Much_ more real than my fake people." Varric chuckled and took a sip of cider. "Even though they're fake people, my readers can relate to them. They like to read about my fake people going through pain and peril, as long as it pays off in the end."

When Cole didn't reply, Varric continued. "If they _didn't_ go through hard times, the story would be boring and it wouldn't mean anything. But if my characters suffer a lot, then they find happiness in the end, they earned it. They worked very hard to get somewhere happy, and the fact that they tried so hard makes it worth something."

He took another sip of cider, giving Cole a very thoughtful look. Though the kid wasn't looking back, he could tell he had his rapt attention. Good.

"That's why I think being a human is _worth it_." He leaned forward a little, a hopeful smile on his lips. "Sure, you'll get hurt. Sometimes, you'll get hurt so badly your heart feels like it's going to burst. You'll lose a lot. Family, friends, hope, dreams. But then there's the moments where you'll gain them and your world changes. Sadness and happiness, pain and joy. It's a dance that you could only watch before. But now, you're on the ballroom floor."

Cole fidgeted in his seat. "Not every person has a happy ending. Not the fake ones or real ones."

Varric frowned. Of course, Kid would know that. He could read minds- he could be absorbed in every dying person's last moments. And judging from what he gathered from his past life, he knew the kid definitely didn't have a happy ending.

"That's also part of being human. You won't know how the story is going to end."

Cole tugged at the brim of his hat with his free hand, squeezing some water from it onto the table. Varric reached across the table and touched his hand. He had to lean out far, so that his chair creaked when he moved. Sometimes it was inconvenient to be so short on human standards.

"But you can choose how you're going to live in the moment, Kid. That's the best any of us can do."

The kid didn't reply. Varric released his hand and nudged his bowl closer to him. "Nobody likes cold soup. You better eat it soon."

Cole looked down at it.

"You can do that much, kid. As far as choices go, this is a pretty easy one." Varric smiled encouragingly at him.

Cole lowered his head. Then, he dipped his bread into the soup and bit off the dampened bit. His lips pursed in concentration. Varric wondered if he remembered what food tasted like. Was this really the first thing he had ever eaten in this form?

Varric grinned. "And while we're at it, Kid, I'll ask Iron Lady or Sparkler to find you something nice to wear. You sort of smell like a wet dog. That's probably enough to turn some heads." He wondered if Cole had ever bathed before, but he never noticed any sort of scent on him until now.

Cole stopped chewing on the bread and gave Varric a wary look. "Can I keep my hat?"

"Sure. Just as long as you wash it."

Cole remained apprehensive, but he continued to eat regardless. After a few tentative bites, it seemed he suddenly realized how hungry he was. He took one bite, then another, then picked up his bowl and shoveled potatoes into his mouth so fast Varric wondered if he should try to teach him table manners next.

"Hey, hey, not so fast!" Varric said in a concerned laugh, "you'll make yourself sick!"

Cole didn't seem to hear him. He swallowed thickly and grabbed at the cider, nearly tossing the cup back as he drank a few gulps. Then he made a face. He coughed and spluttered, slopping some cider from the chalice down the front of his leathers. Varric almost found it comical. He would've laughed if it wasn't for the look of utter betrayal on Cole's face.

"It's not water! What is it?" He asked, snagging his own throat.

"Cider. Never had cider before?"

"I don't like it!"

Varric sighed, then flagged down the barmaid again. At least Cole was eating something now. That was one less thing to worry about. After the barmaid replaced Cole's chalice with a wooden cup of fresh water, Varric silently planned what he was to do next. Talk Vivienne into dragging Cole off to the baths, probably. He'd ask Dorian, but he bemusedly wondered if he could trust him with Cole's newfound humanity.

All the while, a nagging concern plagued the back of his mind. What in Thedas did Curly need Khy so badly for?


	3. Khyran: Son

**THREE**

"Send the troops, then!" Khyran said, palms pressed into the table.

"I want to find Rhys and Evangeline as much as you do, Inquisitor. But our forces are spread thin throughout Thedas. Building the bridge in the Western Approach, dealing with Venatori nationwide, protecting the farmlands from the Wyvern infestation- the list goes on. I can't relocate my men just to save a handful of people. Not only this, but by the time my scouts get word out to them it may be too late. It might _already_ be too late. I'm not going to risk my soldiers' lives just to find bodies." Cullen explained. "And with Josephine stuck in Val Royaoux..."

"None of our people are expendable." Khyran reminded his advisors.

Leliana sighed. "My spies are occupied as it is. Entering the Deep Roads will require more than-"

"I'll go." Khyran said with conviction. "It's not wise to expend Inquisition resources on this directly. We need to keep our presence strong where it already is. But I won't allow our people to die."

"They could be dead already, Khyran."

"And if they're not!?" The Inquisitor replied. "If there's just a chance, it's worth the risk!"

"We won't be able to provide proper support." Cullen responded. "If you go, there'll be very few of us able to go with you."

Khyran silently considered his options. After Rhys and Evangeline had been freed from the Red Templars who captured them, Josephine and Leliana had in turn kept close tabs on their loyalty and aid to the Inquisition. They fought the Venatori where they could as well as provided the Inquisition with locations to valuable resources. The last they knew of Rhys and Evangeline was that they had disappeared into the Deep Roads with some Inquisition troops in search of resources as well as red lyrium deposits to destroy. There was, after all, plenty of people down there attempting to take advantage of the illegal red lyrium trade- not just darkspawn and deepstalkers.

Khyran had almost forgotten about it. He had been so occupied with his growing to-do list that he hadn't given Rhys and Evangeline a second thought. That was a month ago. They hadn't been heard from since. Once it had come to Cullen's attention that their correspondence had halted, he had brought the matter to Khyran as soon as he could.

Though it was possible Rhys and Evangeline were dead, it was also possible that they weren't- and needed help. Khyran's responsibility was to make the calls on tentative situations like this, as much as he hated it.

"Keep all your forces where they are." He told his advisors. "I'll take care of this matter myself. I'll see who will be able to come with me, but I won't linger."

"This is too much of a risk, Inquisitor. I think you should face the facts that they're gone." Leliana insisted.

"They could be anywhere down there, sir." Cullen added, concerned. "Do you have any idea how far the Deep Roads go?"

"I'm going to look anyway." Khyran said.

Cullen bit his lower lip, his tired eyes dropping to the map on the table. "How long will you expect to be down there?"

"Two weeks." He answered. "As soon as I'm out, I'll send word to Skyhold. If… you don't hear back from me before then-"

"See, this is what I mean." Leliana interrupted, exasperated. "The Inquisition can afford to lose Rhys, Evangeline, and those who went with them. It **can't** afford to lose you."

Khyran squeezed his eyes shut, steeling himself. Slowly, he turned to face Leliana. "Sometimes, your pragmatism is invaluable to us. And I appreciate it where it is due." He began quietly. "But it is not due now, Leliana. I believe this is the right thing to do."

"The right thing isn't always the smart thing. And your idealism has cost us too much." Leliana retorted, her expression difficult to read. "What about the time you sacrificed an alliance with the Qunari for a handful of people?"

"Bull's men!"

"That's what I mean, Inquisitor. You don't look at the numbers, the hard facts. You're letting your feelings for a few people hinder the Inquisition as a whole."

Khyran said nothing. He stared down at the map on the table, then looked up at Cullen. The man simply watched stoically, not offering comment. The silence in the war room lingered, but everyone knew the decision had already been made.

"I'm leaving at sunset." Khyran said, though it didn't need to be. He made sure his tone communicated one fact clearly: there was no arguing with him.

He left.

. . .

He would force no one to come. He left the offer open to everyone he trusted, but made sure they knew the risks. He didn't allow himself to be disappointed with how few were able to come. As the sun set in the sky, he found himself standing in the quiet courtyard with The Iron Bull, Varric, and Solas at his side, all of them laden with heavy packs of supplies.

"There's just one more person I need to ask." Khyran said, his eyes lingering on the Herald's Rest tavern nearby. "Then we'll be ready."

The three of them seemed to understand. Where they were going, it was something Cole needed to know. Khyran had saved him for last.

"Go get the horses. I'll meet you at the gates."

He left the three to discuss the matter amongst themselves as he entered the tavern. Hopefully Cole was still here. Quietly he ascended the staircase until he reached the third floor, now practically on the roof. In the corner, quite near the rafters, was a small nook where Cole's belongings were piled. It reminded Khyran of a magpie's nest- cluttered with objects most people would find generally useless. Among them were wine corks, melted metal fixtures from the smithy, shiny rocks, colorful strips of cloth, wooden shavings, and misshapen dog figurines (likely rejects made by Blackwall- Khyran imagined Cole might have dug them out of the rubbish).

The magpie in question was crouched on the floor near his pile of rejected treasures, staring at Khyran. If Cole hadn't been wearing his telltale hat, Khyran might not have recognized him. He was freshly washed and he was wearing a different set of clothes, black in color with delicate gold embroidery on the sleeves. A golden button rested against the collar. He imagined Vivienne would've found him something of that sort to wear- it seemed her style.

"Do you like your new clothes?" Khyran commented, though he couldn't keep his tone from betraying his worry. He tried to focus the entirety of his thoughts on one of Blackwall's messed-up mabari figurines. He didn't want Cole to see what was on his mind. How was he going to breach the topic?

"Lady Vivienne gave me a bath. I didn't like it." Cole tugged idly at his sleeves. "But it feels nice now."

Khyran swallowed thickly. _Mabaris. Such strong, loyal dogs…  
_  
"Listen, Cole…" He said. His thoughts drifted from the mabari.

_Rhys. Evangeline. _

As soon as the names came to his mind, Cole stiffened where he sat. He lifted his head so that Khyran could see his face. His eyes went wide. But he didn't speak.

Khyran crossed the threshold and knelt down near Cole. The floor creaked under his meager weight.

"Your old friends are in trouble." Khyran said gently, looking into the boy's eyes. _Rhys and Evangeline, lost in the Deep Roads. They could be dead. I'm scared._

The look in Cole's eyes broke Khyran's heart. He knew. Without a word, Khyran reached over and pulled Cole into a hug, placing a hand on the back of his hat, and the other encircled the young man's back. He hugged him tighter when he felt Cole's fingers clutching at his scapulae.

"I'm not asking you to come with us, Cole." Khyran whispered. "But if something's happened to Rhys and Evangeline… I want you to know. I want you to know for certain if they're alive or dead. You deserve that. That's why I've got to go."

Cole was trembling under his arms. His breaths hitched in silent sobs. Khyran something warm and wet on his shoulder. He held Cole for what seemed to be ten minutes- Khyran didn't care. He'd hold him as long as he needed to be held- be it minutes or hours. For a time, the only sound was chattering patrons in the tavern below and rustling of wind outside. Khyran didn't want to leave.

"I c-can't. I c-c-can't do it, I can't g… go…" Cole hiccuped. "It hurts… too much… I c-can't go…"

"I know, Cole." Khyran whispered. "There is no shame in that."

"You'll… you'll be back… y-you won't get lost too…?"

"I'll be back in two weeks. I promise."

He felt Cole's fingers loosen from his back and Khyran did the same. Cole choked back sobs, his shoulders shaking with each breath, but he had to let Khyran go. After he stood, Khyran watched Cole clutch at his own arms and bend forward in an upright fetal position. His head lowered so much that his hat fell off, the metal part of the cap thunking to the floor. His hair fell over his eyes.

The Inquisitor never had any lovers, and thus no children. Cole was the closest thing to a son he ever had, even though the young man looked little more than twenty. Khyran knelt down and kissed the top of Cole's head. He scooped up his hat and placed it back where it belonged. Then, without another word, he retreated from the inn.


	4. Varric: Rift

**FOUR**

Though the mounts were laden, they were strong and traveled fast. The only one of them who was not riding a horse was Tiny. The mount chosen for him was a halla- a stronger creature more capable of bearing the Qunari's weight.

The four men were blessed with a cloudless twilight and the early autumn air was crisp. At the pace they were going, they would be at the Hinterlands in a day. The entrance to the Deep Roads would be waiting for them there.

Varric looked to his side where Chuckles rode, stiff as a board and jaw set. As usual, he was impossible to read. He couldn't tell of the Elf was still angry with him and secretly seething, or if he was calm and focused on moving forward. It might've been a little of both, for all he knew.

Tiny and Shy Khy, meanwhile, were keeping more pleasant company. Varric and Tiny talked on occasion, commenting on gossip around Skyhold, while Khyran seemed content to spectate. Varric knew Khyran rarely cared to hear anyone's opinions on romantic entanglements and awkward incidents in the tavern. For him, however, it served a pleasant distraction from their grim circumstances.

When Khyran had returned from the tavern without the kid, Varric only pretended he understood why. He knew little about Cole's connection to Rhys and Evangeline. All he was able to extract from Cole were cryptic comments he didn't attempt to decipher. Khyran was similarly tight-lipped. All he knew was that Cole was once close to Rhys and Evangeline, but something happened to separate them, and Cole never attempted to face them again. It must have been hard, whatever it was.

He felt bad, leaving the kid alone in Skyhold in this state. All those who were able and willing to go with Khyran to help Rhys and Evangeline were Cole's closest friends. It was for that reason that they went. Why this had to happen as soon as the kid suffered such a huge change in his life, Maker only knew. There were a lot of things Varric wanted to ask the Maker, if only He'd show His face.

The Dwarf sighed and rubbed at the exhaustion in his eyes. He understood why Khy wanted to leave immediately, but he wished he waited until morning to depart. If the Inquisitor was anything, he was too noble and too impulsive. A deadly combination.

As they rode, they passed beneath a thick forest. The canopy blotted the moonlight, forcing the Mages in front to raise their staves and summon magic light forth. From behind, the Inquisitor almost looked like some sort of wraith upon a black horse. The light from his raised staff silhouetted his form: all thin, flowing shapes with his lithe body, cloak and long hair. If Varric didn't know Khy, he would've thought he looked ominous.

The trees thickened and the bumps in the road forced the mounts into an uneven gait. Tiny, by far the tallest of them, kept snagging his horns in branches and leaves. Varric, thankful for his height, stayed free of them.

"How much farther is it?" The Qunari asked, hunkering down near his halla in an attempt to keep his face clear from further abuse.

"These woods should break in about two miles." Said Solas.

"Good. If I get one more leaf in my horns-"

_Thoom. _The Inquisitor's left hand exploded with something like green fire and electricity. Varric's pony bucked. Khy cried out. Varric saw him recoil, lose balance, and drop to the ground. Varric's eyes darted. He grabbed Bianca from his pack.

"Inquisitor!" Solas flung himself out of the saddle. He heard Iron Bull drop to the ground with a thud. Varric followed suit. Couldn't think. Didn't even know what he was aiming for. Bianca jerked at every shadow.

Then, his mind caught up with the chaos.

Up ahead of them, right on the road, was a Rift.

He could feel it now. The familiar tingle of energy that brought the hairs on his body standing, the buzzing in his head, the feeling of dread at the thing that shouldn't have been. The Rift was like liquid smoke suspended in air, flowing in place, crackling and spilling forth. It was a hole between what was real and what was not.

And there were things coming out of it. Demons from the Fade.

Solas helped the Inquisitor back on his feet. Varric could see by the green light of the Rift that he was in pain, but he retrieved his staff and smacked the shaft into the ground. Lightning spilled out and struck the demons.

Bull charged past with his axe held high. Varric shot a bolt past him, striking a fiery demon before it reached Solas.

"Not another one!" Varric said. "I thought we took care of the Rifts in the Hinterlands!"

"Seems I missed it!" Khyran sent a lightning bolt hurtling past Bull's shoulder, stunning his target. Bull cleaved its head in two.

"There's more coming out of this one than I've ever seen!"

"Cover me!"

Varric saw Solas draw himself up, his staff held high. He then felt an aura envelop him and saw it on his friends. It shimmered like glass yet it was not solid. Moments later, a burst of energy glanced off the shield. Khyran dashed toward the rift.

The dwarf climbed a fallen tree and aimed Bianca at the demon closest to Khy. One, two, three bolts to the head and it fell. Another replaced it moments later. Varric thrust a bolt into Bianca's chamber as Bull brought down another demon.

They just kept coming.

Khyran raised his left hand towards the Rift and it crackled. The demons stopped coming through. But now the Inquisitor could not move as he held the Rift steady. Varric knew what had to come next. They had to kill the rest of the demons and protect the Inquisitor. Then, he could close the Rift and rid the world from its evil.

Demons swarmed everywhere. Solas tried to contain them, blasting them back and locking them in place with ice summoned from the air. But Varric felt the last vestiges of his power fading. He had to shoot faster. His aim was true. One demon dead- two- three. He fumbled for a bolt again.

Solas's shield broke. Something smashed Varric's skull. He tumbled off the tree and hit the ground. His breath gusted from his lungs. A firey weight pressed on his abdomen and he stared up at the face of a rage demon- it was on top of him. He tried to lift Bianca but his arm was pinned.

He heard someone shouting his name. He tried to reply. Nothing came. He couldn't breathe. It burned.

Then, the rage demon writhed and recoiled. Varric saw a glint of metal poking out through its molten body. The demon dissolved into green dust, coating Varric's chest. A young man stood in its place, holding a dagger, and wearing a large hat. By the light of the Rift, Varric could see large, blue eyes staring down at him with concern.

Cole.

Varric tried to speak, but his words were drowned out by a sudden burst of sound. The ground shook and his body rattled with the deep bass. It was a humming, almost like music, filling his mind. He had grown to love the sound because it meant something very good.

Khy was closing the Rift.

_Thoom._

The green light was gone. The Rift was gone. And the forest plunged into darkness. Now, all Varric could hear was heavy breathing from himself and the others.

Then, a light flickered back into focus- the light from the mages' staves.

"Well, that was fun. Everybody still in one piece?" Said Tiny.

"There are five of us now. It seems we have company." Solas said, a wary edge to his tone.

"Who goes there!?" The Inquisitor demanded. "Varric! Are you alright!?"

Cole, instead of approaching Khyran, stepped backwards. He retreated further into the darkness. In all his black linens, it was difficult to make out his form. Khyran, though his face shone with a sheen of sweat, did not hesitate in nearing Varric's side and kneeling down toward him. Identifying Cole was lower on his priority list.

Varric felt the pain now. The flesh on his chest was seared and blistered, and a mighty ache crawled into his skull.

"Maker's mercy," Varric choked in a half-chuckle. "Been a while since one of those things caught me off guard…" He tried to sit up, but his abdomen hurt too much. "You should thank our visitor for saving my neck." He gestured towards Cole, who had continued to slink back until he was hiding among the trees.

Solas had come to Varric's side and began tending to him. He felt the Elf's magic flow forth, gentle and soothing against his burns. His eyes drooped shut and he breathed a slow exhale.

Khyran stood from Varric's side, peering into the shadows. "I'm not going to hurt you. Please come out. I want to thank you for saving my friend."

Cole finally stepped out into the light of the mages' staves.

He felt the surprise around him, even though he wasn't looking. He could hear Khy gasp in shock and Chuckles hesitated in his healing spell. Tiny laughed.

"Cole…?" The Inquisitor said.

Varric opened his eyes to look at Cole, though not without effort. The boy's head was lowered in shame.

"I'm sorry." Cole said. "I should have come sooner. I don't want to be a coward."

"You're not a coward. You didn't have to come."

"I made a bad choice earlier. I let myself get too upset about seeing Rhys and Evangeline again. I didn't know if I could bear seeing them hurt and I didn't know if I could bear seeing them alive." Cole's voice quivered as he spoke. "But it wasn't right. They were my friends. Once I gave everything to help Rhys. I don't know why I was so afraid to do it again." Cole hesitated. "Is Varric going to be okay?"

"He's fine," Solas responded. "I've done what I could to relieve the surface burns, but he will need to be careful not to move too much."

"How'd you catch up to us, Cole?" Tiny asked, brushing at some ash on his pauldron.

"I borrowed a horse and followed the road." Cole crouched near Varric.

"Didn't know you could ride…" Tiny said, scratching at his unshaven chin.

"I watched others do it before."

"Picked it up that quick? Smart kid."

"Are you sure you want this, Cole?" Khy asked.

"Don't question the kid," Varric said with a weak chuckle. "He came all the way out here- it's a bit late to go back now. I think he made up his mind." Once more he made an attempt to sit up, and this time succeeded. He waved off Chuckles, who wasn't finished, but backed away regardless. The pain was bearable now, and the less weird magic shot into him the better. The burn on his chest had receded to a red discoloration like a sunburn.

Solas straightened and watched Cole, leaning on his staff. He didn't speak. Varric wondered if Solas was at a loss of what to call Cole now that he was a little more human than before. Could he still be referred to as a spirit?

"Where is your horse?" Khyran asked.

Cole gestured over his shoulder. "When I heard a fight I got off and came here."

Khyran wandered off to find the horse. A few minutes passed and he returned to the group easing the animal along. Varric blinked. When it walked into the light, he realized the dappled mare had no saddle or reins. Cole had ridden it _bareback_?

The others shared his shock. "How did you get here like that? You've never even ridden before!" Tiny said.

"She was afraid of the Rift." Cole's reply wasn't exactly illuminating. "But she feels safe now. She likes the other horses. The black one is her friend."

"I had a suspicion Cole could understand other creatures." Solas said, tilting his head and smiling over at the kid. "It does not surprise me that he managed to communicate to the animal to come here. His spiritual powers must yet be within him." The way he spoke, Solas sounded almost relieved. Varric wondered if he feared Cole had lost too much of his spiritual identity and this circumstance proved otherwise.

"He didn't bring any supplies." Tiny said, latching his huge axe in place against his back. "Now we've got an extra mouth to feed."

Cole didn't seem to comprehend what the issue was.

"He isn't accustomed to human needs." Solas said with the faintest hint of displeasure.

"We'll have enough provisions. I made sure to bring extra just in case Rhys and Evangeline needed it." Khyran answered. "It isn't an issue."

Varric stood upright and teetered a little. Khyran steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks. We gonna make camp or keep going?"

"Let's stop for a while." Khyran responded. "We can afford a few hours' rest, and I don't want you to push yourself."

Varric gave Khy a thumbs up. "I'm good, Your Inquisitorialness."

"I want to keep going." Said Cole.

But Khy shook his head. The fight left everyone drained- it would be unwise to continue forward in this state.

"We'll continue again in six hours. I'll take first watch. Bull, you take second."

"You got it, boss."

The five of them gathered provisions from their packs and settled down in the woods with only the crickets to break the silence of night.


	5. Khyran: Bridge

**FIVE**

Two massive Dwarven statues marked the entrance to the Deep Roads. The stone visages clutched at giant axes held aloft over their stoic faces. It was through the great archway between them that Khyran led his friends into the unknown. They could see by massive cracks in the ceiling and walls which let in shafts of sunlight. Where it was too dark, the Mages easily chased the shadows away.

Khyran and Solas led the group, followed by Varric and Bull, and then Cole behind them. Varric complained loudly about how much he hated the Deep Roads. Khyran shared his sentiments, annoying as the Dwarf's proclamations were. He knew what he was getting into- he agreed to this. Beyond the occasional "watch your step" and "I saw something over there", the group was generally silent.

One thing hadn't changed about Cole since he became more human: he didn't make a sound when he walked. He might as well have been Bull's shadow, creeping along without effort. If Khyran hadn't known he was there, he might not have noticed him at all. Cole had that gift- the ability to elude attention even if he was right under someone's nose.

The first few miles were fortunately without incident. They heard chittering of Deepstalkers in unseen corners, but the creatures were wise to avoid attacking them. On occasion, they would pass the underground dwellings of old Dwarven homes and workshops, all sharp corners and right angles. Dwarven architecture was impressive, and even though this place was lost to time, everything they built still stood.

"So… Inquisitor." Bull broke the silence.

"Yes?"

"Do you have even the faintest idea where you're going, or is this gonna be like digging a needle out of a pile of needles?"

Khyran frowned a little, but Bull couldn't see. "I know generally where Rhys and Evangeline said they were going. We'll check through that area."

He held up the map he had been following. It was a rough approximation of this area of the Deep Roads, but it was the best his resources had to offer. So far it had been generally accurate, but that was due to the fact that they were still in the upper levels where few Darkspawn dared to come. Unfortunately, Rhys and Evangeline's route had let them deeper and lower, and to the path they took, they had to cross a long bridge that stretched over a vast chasm. It wasn't much farther ahead now.

"If we don't see any sign of them, we'll go deeper and farther until we do." Said Khyran.

"Or until we have to turn around and go back. You said two weeks." Bull reminded him.

"You don't actually believe we'll find them, do you?" Khyran asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

"Of course not. I came along to keep your ass safe from Darkspawn." Bull said. "Would've brought Blackwall, too, but he was off looking for artifacts again."

"Well, I think we'll find them. Or at least a trace of them." Varric said, though something in his tone seemed a little too brisk. Khyran cast a look over his shoulder, noticing that Cole had slunk back until he was almost out of earshot.

"What about you, Solas? Why'd you come?"

"I came because the Inquisitor requested it of me. From what we know of Rhys, he can communicate with spirits from the Fade. It's how he originally saw Cole several years ago." Solas said in a level tone. "Of matters concerning the Fade, I have much experience. If there is a chance Rhys would attempt to seek for aid in the Fade, I may be able to detect it and assist."

"Let's hope there's enough of him left by the time we do find him, then." Varric said.

The five of them soon came upon a chasm. Ahead of them, stretching onward and outward, was a sheer drop that descended into the untold depths. Across the chasm were more Dwarven ruins along a path that continued further into the network of caves and tunnels. The only way to cross the chasm was by a long, narrow bridge, three men wide and half a mile long. Beyond a short railing on either side of the bridge, it seemed imposing and otherwise unsafe.

"Please tell me we're not going to cross that." Varric groaned.

"We're going to cross it." Khyran replied with a hint of agitation.

"Right, right. You're the boss." He said. "But, normally, there's more than one way to get places in the Deep Roads…"

"This way is fastest."

"I'm just saying, Inquisitor. There's probably another way."

"I'm sorry, Varric, but we can't afford to lose any time."

The decision had been made. They approached the bridge and began to cross it single-file. Their footsteps echoed through the chasm below. Several minutes passed and they were still not even halfway across, yet Khyran pressed on. Each step had to be careful- there were parts of the bridge that seemed weak from years of disuse, many stones loose and crumbling. Even so, it felt generally solid under his feet. He only hoped it felt that way to Bull, too.

Something was wrong. Khyran stopped. It took a few moments for him to realize that there weren't enough sets of footsteps behind him. He turned to see what had happened, and the others stopped when he did.

Cole had stopped walking. He was several yards away, standing still as a statue, quite small compared to the breadth of the chasm beyond. He looked petrified. Both his hands were pressed against his ears.

"Kid?" Varric started to walk back towards him.

Khyran could hardly hear him but Cole was talking. The only part of him that moved were his lips. "Singing… torpid, twisted, born a bane called forth of corruption, takes and never gives, crawling up- up- up-!"

_Fwit!_

Something flew right past Khyran's nose. The next thing he knew, Solas's staff smacked the side of the bridge and a shimmering magic shield sprang up around them. He spun wildly around.

There were Darkspawn on the other side of the bridge. Two archers and five warriors. They had come out of nowhere, pale and twisted creatures with blackened eyes and pointed teeth. The warriors swarmed onto the bridge and ran in their direction with grotesque blades held high.

_Fwit!_ This time, a Darkspawn arrow glanced off of Solas's shield. Another thing flew past Khyran's ear- this one a bolt from Varric's direction. The bolt struck one of the Darkspawn archers between the eyes and it fell into the chasm with an earsplitting screech. Almost immediately, Varric shot the second and it toppled backwards before it could even loosen another arrow.

Khyran called lightning up from the atmosphere around them. Thunder boomed and white energy crackled around them, bouncing from Darkspawn to Darkspawn. Two of them were stunned, but the third warrior pressed through it. Khyran was caught unprepared.

"Hold on, boss!"

Bull, easily two normal men wide, couldn't have crossed Khyran's side with Solas standing so near. But he watched in amazement as the Qunari leapt fearlessly onto the edge of the bridge's wall, then jumped again towards the Darkspawn. He brought his axe down in a mighty arc in midair and split the Darkspawn's head like a melon. Bull landed with a sickening crunch on top of it. The bridge gave a threatening jolt. The two once-stunned Darkspawn launched for Bull while he attempted to wrench his axe free.

Khyran couldn't think. All he knew was that Bull was vulnerable. He couldn't calculate the gravity of his error before he had done it.

He brought forth mana from deep within himself. From around them, a fiery force rose up on the bridge with explosive power- enough to blast both the darkspawn off the bridge and send them tumbling over the edge, their bodies alight like vivid orange torches as they dropped into the darkness.

"Inquisitor, no-!"

But Solas's warning came much too late.

The bridge began to crumble.

"Run!"

Bull just managed to free his axe from the dead Darkspawn and launched himself into a dash across the crumbling bridge, followed closely by Khyran and Solas. The rocks which built the bridge began to crumble away beneath their feet. The entire chasm rumbled.

Khyran couldn't see what was behind him. He couldn't spare a glance over his shoulder. He ran after Bull, wild, eyes wide, heart jolting in his throat. He felt the rocks giving way under his feet even as he moved. With one last leap he and Solas landed on solid ground behind Bull just as the last stone crumbled behind them.

When Khyran realized he was on safe footing next to his friends, he whirled around and screamed, "Varric! Cole!"

When he saw what had happened behind him, the Inquisitor sank to his knees, his shoulders sagging and his heart dropping back to his chest. He let out a long, slow breath.

They were safe.

But they were standing on the other side of the chasm.

Varric and Cole had likely been too far back to risk chasing after the Inquisitor on such unsteady ground. What was left of the bridge, it was way too far back to reunite with them. When Khyran realized this, he smacked his fist onto the ground and cursed.

"We're fine, Inquisitor!" Varric shouted across the chasm. He could barely hear him through all the echoes. He was like a little brown-and-red speck beyond the chasm, standing next to the dark and willowy Cole.

"Can you find another way to get to us!?" Khyran yelled. He had to keep his words brief and spaced-out in hopes that he could be properly understood.

"No! We might never a good way to get over there! Why don't we wait for you back on the surface!?" Varric said. "Go on and find Rhys and Evangeline without us!"

Khyran grit his teeth, considering his response. He *needed* Varric. He knew how Dwarven mechanisms worked, and who knows what sorts of traps they would find down here. "Then how are we supposed to go back this way!?" He asked.

"There's plenty of other ways to the surface! Just find a different way out! Cole and I will meet you at the ranch!"

Khyran pinched the bridge of his nose. He remembered leaving the mounts at the ranch naught a few miles north of this entrance to the Deep Roads. It wouldn't be hard for Varric and Cole to get back. And it was too difficult to argue with Varric, especially at this distance. The Dwarf was right. He couldn't expect Varric and Cole to go searching for another way across the chasm. They'd be risking their lives unnecessarily. A balanced group of five could handle a group of Darkspawn, but two? They might as well offer themselves up on a platter.

"Okay!" Khyran yelled. "Just be careful!"

They stood and watched each other for several more moments, but there was nothing else to be said. Slowly, he watched the Varric and Cole specks retreat. Khyran hung his head.

The full reality of what had happened settled in like a stone on his heart. Their chances of finding Rhys and Evangeline dropped with the bridge.

"That was foolish." Solas reprimanded him.

"I know." Khyran said with a miserable frown, clutching at his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "I just didn't want them to hurt Bull, I just… reacted."

"Appreciate it, Boss." Bull said, slinging his axe over one of his shoulders. "But I agree with the Elf. It was pretty stupid."

"You have a lot to learn about controlling your magic." Solas reached down to help Khyran to his feet, and he took his hand. He didn't reply, merely hung his head. He felt shame burning in his cheeks.

He remembered when he had become Inquisitor. He was probably more surprised about it than anyone else. He, of all people, a Mage who so happened to survive the destruction at the conclave was nominated for the position by a majority vote. He never felt as though he deserved the title. When Cassandra had lifted him up and christened him with the responsibility, he had tried to push it back onto her. It had turned into an awkward game of hot-potato, neither truly willing to bear the burning responsibility and thinking the other more suited.

After he had finally caved in and accepted it, due to the people's belief that he was Andraste's chosen and not wanting to dash their hopes, he had talked to Cassandra more seriously.

What she said that night never left him.

"Yes, you are a Mage, and yes, you were never fully prepared to leave the Circle. But we who follow you see a man greater than his weaknesses, a man greater than himself. Time and time again you have sacrificed yourself without thought. You would throw yourself in front of a blade aimed at the most lowly of us without asking what they are worth. And when Corypheus attacked Haven, you gave yourself up to him to buy us all time to escape and yet you still survived. How can I **not** believe you are chosen by the Maker, after all you have lived through and all you have done?"

Cassandra had a point, as much as it was hard for him to believe. He had lived through things he shouldn't have survived. Perhaps this fact was making him a little reckless. He never thought about the implications of being Inquisitor. He was just… Khyran. Khyran, the reckless mage who would do anything in his power to make other people safe.

But, as Inquisitor, he needed to slow down. He needed to think.

"We'll do what we can to find Rhys and Evangeline." He said finally, settling his staff on the ground. "But if we don't see a sign of them soon… we'll go back." He swallowed thickly. "We can't leave Cole and Varric waiting."

"We're with you, Boss." Iron Bull nodded. "Just don't go blowing up any more bridges."


	6. Varric: Labyrinth

**SIX**

Varric watched as the three men on the other side of the drop turned and began to leave.

Though he felt disappointed that he couldn't go with them, he couldn't help the sense of relief that washed over him. Circumstance had spared him from plunging further into the Deep Roads. He supposed he had to thank the Maker that he and Cole were still standing.

"Well, so much for that." He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck.

Cole stared ahead miserably, not speaking.

Varric reached over to pat the small of his back. "Come on, let's go."

But as Varric turned to retrace their steps to the entrance, Cole turned and walked in the opposite direction. Varric blinked. What in the blazes was he doing?

"Kid? The exit's this way." He pointed off to the distance.

"I'm going to find Rhys."

"Are you out of your mind? Khy and the others are gonna find Rhys! We need to go before more Darkspawn show up!"

"Rhys was my friend."

"I get it, Kid, but we're not exactly in the position to find him. I hardly have enough supplies for the two of us, and I didn't bring any torches! Plus, if we run into Darkspawn, we're sitting ducks."

"We are not ducks. We are people."

Varric groaned. "Just- get over here!"

But Cole continued on, shrinking further and further away as his head turned this way and that. He was probably searching for some sort of road or doorway. Varric rubbed at his face with both hands, then ran to catch up to Cole. He snagged the boy's arm.

"We're leaving. Now." He said.

Cole stopped walking and didn't struggle. He looked down at Varric and said without expression, "I'm going to find Rhys. You don't have to help me."

Varric felt a grimace tug at the corners of his mouth. What was he going to do? Throw Cole over his shoulder and carry him out of here? Odds were he'd just get free and run off, or slip away as soon as night fell at the ranch. He could just let his arm go and leave without him, save his own ass. But Varric didn't have the heart. He couldn't leave Cole to wander around in the Deep Roads by himself. But he also couldn't let this go on for too long. They might never find Rhys, and judging by Cole's determination, that could mean never leaving.

"Alright, alright." He groaned. "But, listen. If we run into a group of Darkspawn we can't handle, we're gonna get the hell out of here. Okay? I know you want to help find Rhys, but we can't be stupid about it. You're not as unnoticable as you used to be."

Cole stiffened and swallowed thickly. He didn't speak.

"You said so yourself. You can't disappear anymore."

When Cole still didn't reply, Varric nudged him. "Well? You gonna agree to leave if we get in a mess?"

"We won't get in a mess."

"But if we do."

"We'll leave."

"Good kid." Varric patted his arm. "And when we get low on food, we'll leave. No more than two weeks down here, like the Inquisitor said. Probably less, since we don't have as many rations. Alright?"

Cole hesitated, as if he believed Varric's terms weren't acceptable. But by the look on his face, Varric knew that even he couldn't ignore the reality of their situation.

"Alright." Cole said, and moved on.

. . .

Now that it was just him and Cole, Varric felt the vastness and loneliness of this place vividly. The kid hardly talked, and his footsteps made no sound, as usual. Varric sometimes felt as if he was walking by himself. He jumped at every drop of water, every clatter of stones, every skitter of unseen creatures in the dark. Once he snagged Bianca and fired a bolt by reflex, only to realize he had shot at the shadow of an oddly shaped rock. He hated this place, and he was beginning to regret following Cole down here. Maybe he should have tied up the kid and dragged him off to the ranch kicking and screaming.

Fortunately, Varric was smart to carry emergency supplies in his backpack. If they ate carefully, he was sure he had enough food to last himself and Cole for a week. He doubted they'd find much edible down here, but there was plenty of water collecting in pools and streams trickling down the inside of the mountain walls. He had a means to make fire, too- a tinderbox with spark rocks and kindling. He also had a rudimentary first aid kit, though he hoped he wouldn't have to use it. Varric was no doctor. At best he knew how to clean and cauterize an open wound, but he was sure it would be a sloppy job.

Just in case, Varric had been leaving a trail that would lead them back to the exit. He would mark the wall with a stub of charcoal with a big X every time they passed a fork in the tunnels and carved roads. They had been attempting to head in the direction the bridge would have gone, but every time they tried to find another way across the chasm, they would only come up to a dead drop into nothingness.

Surely the chasm would end eventually, one way or another.

The two of them searched everywhere. Varric coudln't tell how much time had passed save from the rare shaft of light that broke through from a collapsed ceiling. His body ached. His chest still burned from where the rage demon had attacked him, and now his feet were rubbed raw and blistered in his boots.

Daylight was gone now, and the Deep Roads grew darker and more ominous. Things stirred where Varric dared not go. As Cole continued tirelessly through the next tunnel they came to, Varric stopped him.

"Hey. Let's take a break. Feels like it's midnight out there."

Cole blinked down at Varric. For the first time in hours, he saw the kid's face, hair plastered with sweat and eyes drooping with exhaust. "But Rhys…"

"You look like you need to sleep more than I do." Varric told him.

"But I don't sleep…"

"You mean you haven't slept yet?" Varric gaped at him. "At all? Ever?"

Cole shook his head.

Varric shook his head and wondered how he was still standing. Perhaps humanity was slowly trickling into him, making him a little more real as the days passed. Maybe he hadn't felt the need to sleep yet. Or maybe he just believed he didn't need it. "So you mean to tell me you don't feel at all tired?"

Cole started to speak, then shut his mouth. "It's… heavy, hard to hold my head. Like… I'm slowly sinking in a sea, don't know where thought begins and reality ends… wandering with a weight, wilting, yet awake…" He drew in a slow breath through his nose. "I… had forgotten what it felt like. After I became Cole I thought I could still be tired, but I was just pretending… pretending I could still feel it to make myself more real, more _here…_"

Varric couldn't pretend he fully understood, but he nodded regardless. "And what you're feeling now is _really_ real, kid. You're tired. Exhausted. I can see it in your face."

"But if I sleep… if I sleep I go back into the Fade." He breathed. "I don't want to go into the Fade."

"You'll wake up, kid. You'll be fine."

Cole hung his head. Their conversation seemed to make him more aware of the fact of his own fatigue. Varric gave him a nod, then turned. "I saw a good place to rest a little ways back. It's a bit of a hole in the wall- will be hard for anything to sneak up on us there. We'll have to take turns watching, though. I'll let you get some sleep."

Cole followed him to the crevice in the wall where they found it just barely big enough for the both of them. Varric gave him a few dried fruits from his pack and Cole ate slowly, his head bobbing while he fought the need to sleep. Varric unrolled his sleeping mat and urged Cole onto it. The kid flopped over without much of a fuss, his hat knocked a bit askew and crumpled under his head. His mouth was still half-full with an apple slice, jaw slightly agape and eyes glued shut. He was undoubtedly asleep.

Varric couldn't help but to smile at how comical he looked. He reached over and took Cole's hat off. Then he set Bianca in his lap and looked out of the crevice into the Deep Roads beyond, watchful as a hawk.

. . .

He didn't know how many hours he let Cole sleep, but he didn't care. Varric couldn't have fallen asleep here even if he wanted to. There were too many noises. The idea of a Darkspawn lurking just beyond where he could see unsettled him, and he kept seeing shapes in the shadows when there was clearly nothing there. His eyes were playing tricks on him.

Varric was tired, but his mind was still alert. He could handle going a day or two without sleep- he had done it several times before. His alertness only grew with the passing hours and he knew it was because he hit a second wind. It was probably daylight now, somewhere outside where he longed to be.

It was then when he nudged Cole awake and the kid rose without complaint, pushing himself to a seated position and rubbing at the circles under his eyes. His hair was sticking up everywhere.

"Did you get to sleep?"

Cole nodded, blinking blearily.

"I had almost forgotten that we were still down here." He said, peering around the crevice.

Varric gave him a bit more food- some oats and berries- and a few gulps of water from one of his canteens. He ate a bit himself, but he found he wasn't extremely hungry. He packed away everything they needed and they set off again, resuming their fruitless search for people who might very well be dead.

Varric shot a Deepstalker once and considered keeping it for meat, but decided against it. They weren't in any great need now, and what was more important to him was continuing the search. At one point Cole had at this point complained of a strange feeling and began walking funny, favoring to cross his legs when he was standing still. After a moment of concern, Varric realized that he simply needed a privy, and laughed. Of course the kid would've forgotten what the call of nature felt like, too.

He realized just how odd the situation was as he stood near a corridor and waited for Cole to re-emerge from around the corner. He never fully grasped it until now, but it became quite clear to him in this moment that he felt like a father. It was his idea to make Cole a human being- didn't that mean he brought him into the world as a parent would? He had always liked to call Cole "Kid", but he was a grown man. At least, he was in the body of someone no older than twenty. But there were so many things that he still didn't know about people, about life, about _being_ a human. Even the most embarrassing and basic. Humans bleed and sweat and piss and stink. It seemed Cole was forced to slowly realize all that came with the package of being a real person again. Varric felt, in that moment, a great responsibility for him that he had finally come to accept.

Varric tapped his foot. The kid sure was taking his time. "Uhh, Cole? Everything alright over there?"

"Come here." Cole's voice around the corner was tight and quiet.

Varric blinked. Color flooded into his cheeks at secondhand embarrassment, but he slid around the corner regardless, not entirely sure what he expected to see.

Cole was standing not far ahead of him, in front of a ruined entryway to a Dwarven structure, quite clothed and staring off into the distance. He was frozen. Varric immediately approached him and traced Cole's gaze, trying to find what he was looking at.

Thirty Darkspawn stared back.

They were several yards away, shrouded in the shadows of the cavern beyond and looking right at them. Varric's eyes locked with a Hurlock and he saw the monster's jaw slowly twist into a growl.

Varric didn't speak- didn't think. He grabbed Cole's wrist and ran. By the sound of monstrous cries and thundering footsteps behind them, he knew they were giving chase. His heart lodged beneath his clavicle. His feet hung in the air more than they met the ground. He flew.

He couldn't see where he was going down into the Dwarven ruin. That the halls went on and on, corners became corners and more halls sprouted out of more halls. He had to lose them. Left, right, left, left, down, right, forward, right, left. The turns never ended. He could still hear the monsters growls echoing around him. He didn't know how close they were or if they were still giving chase. He didn't look.

There! A doorway!

Varric burst through it, released Cole, turned, and slammed the door behind him. He cried out, throwing his entire weight against it with a mighty thud. There had to be another way to barricade it! But he couldn't spare the room a look. Though the Darkspawn weren't behind him yet, he knew they would be there soon. He couldn't see an easy way to lock the door.

In moments he heard Cole's grunting breaths and the sound of something heavy sliding against the ground. He looked over his shoulder. The kid was trying to push a ruined bookshelf with all his might and somehow succeeded. Varric grabbed the edge of the bookshelf when he came near and pulled it, positioning it in front of the door. It wouldn't be enough. He launched through the room, hardly registering what he was doing. A heavy stone statue was moved onto the shelf. A chest, likely filled with armor, slid over to it too. He moved urns, crates, boxes, barrels until the door was blocked from head to toe. It was all they could do.

He and Cole stood, breaths hitching and sputtering. Then there was a banging on the other side of the door, but the Darkspawn could not get through. Varric sunk to the ground and hung his head, stars springing to his vision. Perhaps he should thank the Maker that they ended up in a forgotten storage room of sorts, but the relief soon mingled with dread.

Where the hell were they now?


	7. Khyran: Found

_A/N: Sorry for the delay. Work has been kicking my butt._  
**SEVEN**

Two days passed since the bridge fell, and Khyran felt even farther away from finding Rhys and Evangeline than he did before. Oftentimes they would stop and wait as Solas listened, alert for any sign of spirits. As usual, there was nothing. And as the nothingness continued, Khyran's hope plummeted.

Bull had been ticking off the days in a small notebook he carried. Beyond this, he seemed generally cheerful, attempting to keep up their spirits as they wandered through the Deep Roads. He never believed they would find their missing companions to begin with, so he had no room to be disappointed. He was only here out of loyalty to Khyran, and that was something the Inquisitor was beyond grateful for. He was sure as soon two weeks passed, Bull would fling him over his shoulder and carry him out of here with or without Rhys.

"You know, Boss…" Bull began that morning as they descended into a ruined plaza. "You've got a hero complex."

The comment seemed to come out of nowhere, and it wasn't anything new. Khyran didn't know what to say to that, so he stayed silent, raising his lit staff to peer around a corner.

"You've got it in your head that you're some sort of savior. Everyone calling you 'Herald of Andraste', 'Maker's Chosen One', all that bullshit. It's going to your head." Iron Bull took a swig from a hip flask.

"I don't believe I'm Andraste's herald. We've been through this."

"But you believe in the Maker. And Andraste. And you believe in miracles."

"Well… of course. Look at all we've lived through."

"Point is, boss…" Bull sighed. "Whether or not you believe you're some walking miracle deep down, you've been acting stupid because you think the Maker isn't through with you yet. Whatever purpose you think you've got, you feel like you haven't gotten there yet." He raised a hand, gesturing to their desolate environment. "So you do shit like this. Thinking you're invincible."

Khyran grimaced. He felt a heat beneath his collar and he tried to stifle the flame of anger that kindled inside him. "No, I don't think that, Bull." He said in a level tone. But... why was he feeling so angry?

Because Bull was right.

Deep down, Khyran believed he was invincible because the Maker was sparing him for something, just as he was spared from the Breach. Maybe he did let it go to his head.

"You two didn't have to come here with me, you know." He said. "You can still go back."

"I'm here because you're **not** invincible, Boss." He said. "If your Maker's still got a plan for you, I don't think it has much room for stupidity. And another thing-"

"Quiet." Solas suddenly said, but Bull seemed not to hear him.

"-while you're busy running around here playing hero, Corypheus-"

"Quiet, Bull." Solas snapped.

The Qunari finally shut his mouth and stiffened, looking over at the Elf. Khyran did the same, squinting at him.

Solas's face was drawn in concentration. He stood statue-still, his bald head tilted slightly to one side. Khyran wanted to ask him what was wrong, but didn't wish to break his concentration. Instead, he followed Solas's gaze, squinting in the dark.

A little light was floating towards them. It drifted as though wafting on some unseen breeze, but it occasionally twitched as if on its own accord. It hovered distractedly in place near a Dwarven statue, almost as if it was… examining it?

Bull didn't seem to notice anything at all. He stood there in silent confusion, tilting his head in the general direction Khyran was looking, but obviously not seeing it.

Solas began to approach the light. He extended a slender hand towards it, beckoning.

The light seemed to take notice of this. It descended towards him and began glowing brightly. And was that… a twittering sound coming out of it? Khyran gaped. He glided over to Solas, his footsteps soft and light, as if he was afraid of scaring off the light.

"What the hell are you doi-" Bull began, but Solas cut him off.

"It's a spirit." Solas murmured, brows slowly raising in realization and interest. "A very primal spirit, with very little will of its own… but a spirit nonetheless." The spirit wove itself between Solas's extended fingers. "I cannot understand it well… but I believe it wishes us to follow it."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Khyran asked. "It could be a demon."

"I do not sense that this spirit is a demon." Solas began. "It was sent here by someone."

Bull's jaw dropped and Khyran's brows shot up. "It has to be Rhys! We have to follow it!" Khyran gasped.

"Not so fast," Solas said. "I said this spirit isn't a demon, but that doesn't make it any less dangerous. There could be any number of reasons why it is here." He lowered his hand from the spirit, and it began drifting away. Khyran started after it, and Solas quickly told him, "we must proceed with caution. Keep your guard. It isn't only Darkspawn we have to fear now."

"Can't see a damn thing," Bull grunted. "Just tell me what to punch if anything shows up."

The spirit led them through twisting halls and dark tunnels. Though Khyran and Solas marked every turn with a small, glowing rune as they passed, he began to wonder if it would be enough to keep them from getting lost down here. They had left the Dwarven ruins and entered some kind of cave where deep mushrooms glowed on the shining walls, Stalagstites and stalagmites littered the place like gnarled teeth. Khyran and his companions wove between them, narrowly avoiding sheer drops into nothingness and sliding between tight walls. The sense of claustrophobia here was nearly overpowering.

Hours passed. Though he was growing exhausted, Khyran couldn't stop. The spirit could not be urged to wait. If it had any sort of personality, Khyran might describe it as impatient. Anytime he even dared slow down, it would only wait a few seconds before twittering and continuing to float away. Solas led the way the entire time, navigating with silent stoicism.

Eventually the cave turned and broke again into the Dwarven architecture of the Deep Roads. They passed beneath a tall archway and headed down a sloped hall, their footsteps echoing all the way down.

As they descended, Khyran caught the faint smell of something dead and rotting, and he gripped his staff tight. His heart thudded as the smell only grew stronger and stronger. What if the spirit was leading them to a corpse? This grim thought seemed reflected on the faces of his companions.

The sloped hallway ended in a doorway, and through the doorway they found themselves near a chasm quite similar to the one with the now-destroyed bridge. There was nothing on the other side of the chasm, however. The stench of rot was quite near, but where?

Just as Khyran was about to say something, the spirit vanished.

"It's gone back to the Fade." Solas said, unable to mask the unease from his voice. His expression was twisted in a mixture of worry and nausea, and one of his hands lifted towards his nose. "We have no way of knowing how long it has been searching for someone to lead here."

Khyran shivered and rubbed at his thin arms. "Whatever was here, it's dead. I just… don't see where it's coming from… I think-"

It happened at once. Solas bristled and moved. Khyran caught only a blur as the Elf's staff swung through the air. An arcane bolt launched towards him. Khyran shouted and ducked. "What the hell, Solas-!"

The bolt struck something behind him. He heard a guttural moan. Khyran whirled, his hair flinging in front of his face.

A demon of pride towered over him, clutching at its sizzling face. How had he not even seen it!? Where did it come from!?

More demons came out of the shadows. He couldn't count them. He whirled his staff in front of him and readied his stance. He summoned the mana from within him like a wellspring. Bolts of lightning shot out from his staff and thunder exploded in the chasm. He saw a blur of movement as Iron Bull ran past him, swinging his axe into a demon of rage, splitting it down the back and turning it to ash.

And yet more of them came from beyond the cracks in the cavern walls- wraiths and wisps and shrouded beings of glowing light. They swarmed towards Bull and Khyran reacted, instinct fueling his mana as he sent a corona of fire blazing past Bull's shoulder in the direction of the wraiths.

"Hey, watch it!" Bull shouted, throwing a glare in Khyran's direction as he swung his axe haphazardly- completely missing his target. "Nearly burned off my horns!"

"No, you watch-!"

One of the monsters grappled Bull, spinning him to the ground with surprising strength. He crashed into the stony floor with a resounding thud, his head cracking down hard. Khyran dashed towards him, slinging his staff and sending jolts of electricity in its wake. The monster on top of Bull seized up and toppled over. Bull scrambled for his axe- he had dropped it in the fall.

Solas erected a wall of ice between his companions and the demons. It grew in size until it towered over them, blocking the demons from access. Khyran quickly lowered a hand to help Bull up- and the Qunari nearly pulled him down in the effort.

The Elf ran up to where Khyran and Bull gathered their bearings. "Inquisitor. Help me cause a force to knock the demons into the chasm."

Khyran nodded. There wasn't time to argue about when or how to do it. The demons were breaking down the wall of ice, pounding it until it cracked. Bull stumbled backwards, shaking his head. "I"ll just let you mages do your thing…" He rubbed at the side of his head with a grimace, watching the ice wall with a foreboding look in his eyes.

Solas and Khyran then stood side-by-side, their hands raised. As the fizzures in the ice wall grew larger, branching out like spiderwebs, Khyran tried to concentrate instead on his own mana. He let his eyes drift shut.

_Focus. Focus on that fluttering inside you… you're not spent yet… It's like a fire. Make it larger… reach out._

He felt the tingle of magic against his shoulder nearest to Solas. It started as a bristling, then it became a scraping. A shudder coursed down his spine and Khyran knew. He pushed out with both arms with a cry. It felt as if he were shoving himself against a wall, but he thrust out at only air.

The wall of ice shattered in a crash that reverberated through the cavern. Khyran felt it in his chest. The demons tumbled out into the chasm as if swept away by a giant, invisible hand.

Khyran and Solas both fell to their knees, drained. He could hardly lift his arms- his muscles ached and burned. Beyond his heavy breaths, he heard nothing. Swallowing thickly, he looked over at Solas. "What… were demons doing down here…? Is there a Rift?"

"No. No rift." Solas answered. "They were summoned through the Veil."

"But why here…?" Khyran struggled back to his feet, leaning heavily on his staff.

"Boss." Bull said. Khyran turned to face him. The Qunari was standing at the very edge of the chasm, looking down where the demons had fallen. The look on his face said that he didn't believe what he was seeing. Khyran hobbled towards him, followed closely by Solas, and peered over the edge of the chasm.

It was a dead drop into nothingness… but there was an outcropping of rock just barely visible below. It was wide enough for three or four people to lie on side-by-side, and did not extend out far into the chasm. It was like a shelf of stone, extending out just enough to catch someone who might have fallen.

And it's exactly what they saw.

Four human bodies were lying on the shelf, covered in blood and filth.

Khyran had only personally met Rhys and Evangeline once. But he couldn't have forgotten them. Rhys had kind eyes, a well-trimmed beard and shoulder-length hair. Evangeline, though battle-hardened, had soft cheeks, warm eyes, and preferred her hair in a bun. And it was their faces he saw down on the shelf, near two other Inquisition soldiers he regretfully did not recognize.

"It's them," Khyran whispered. His voice was tight. Were they dead? Surely… surely they were. The stench of rot was surely coming from below. "Rhys!? Evangeline!?"

Only his own voice answered in echoes.

"Sorry, Boss." Iron Bull murmured, placing a heavy hand on Khyran's shoulder. Khyran felt his heart drop like a stone to the pit of his stomach. The moment hung for what seemed like minutes.

"Help."

The voice was so soft, Khyran thought he imagined it. But Solas suddenly started, staring with alarm into the chasm.

Evangeline had moved. She turned her head so she was looking directly up at the three figures standing above her.

"Help us."


	8. Varric: Lost

**EIGHT**

It felt as though three days must have gone by. At least, they had fallen asleep three times since the Darkspawn had chased them deeper into the ruins. Varric didn't want to worry Cole, but their food supply was dwindling, and their situation couldn't have been more hopeless. With the Darkspawn lurking in the labyrinth they had escaped from, he couldn't risk going back that way. The only answer was forward.

There had been another doorway in the barricaded storeroom where they had ended up three days ago. It had been locked with a variety of Dwarven mechanisms, but with some time, Varric was able to reverse the locks and force the door open. It had taken him all of three hours, but it wasn't as though he had anything better to do.

Varric had been creating makeshift torches throughout their way- wrapping strips of cloth bandaging from his pack and setting them alight with the fire kit he carried. Though the flame burned for a considerable time, it offered surprisingly little light in the places of the Deep Roads where no glow of deep mushrooms or the rare ambience of sunlit shafts through cracks in the ceiling far above them lit their way.

If Cole hadn't been quiet before, he certainly was now. Varric tried talking to him about cheerful things, telling him stories of his time with Hawke, yet the kid never offered any comment. He had withdrawn into himself, gliding along in the shadows, pulling at his sleeves and wringing his hands. Varric gave up trying to comfort him with distractions- who was he kidding? Both of them knew that the likelihood they'd find any way out of here was slim.

As they walked through the ruins, Varric couldn't help but to notice that it seemed cleaner down here. The air was fresher, and the old Dwarven streets were relatively clear of debris. He didn't allow it to give him any hope. He suspected some places in the Deep Roads had yet been untouched by the decay of time, if he was to give his own people any credit for their craftsmanship.

Though he saw no sight nor sound of a threat, it was the quiet that made Varric uneasy. He couldn't hear anything here but his own footsteps. No trickles of distant water, no scuffling of unseen creatures, no moans or creaks of earth and wind settling above.

"Let's take a break," he told Cole, surprised at the volume of his own voice. It sounded much louder than it should have in here.

Cole just nodded. He was hugging his thin arms against his chest, wide eyes darting.

Varric found a spot near a wall that he felt generally safe sitting down at, and eased his pack from his aching shoulders. Every muscle in his body felt pushed beyond its limit. Even sitting down hurt. The Dwarf let out a low groan, rubbing at the back of his neck. Cole crouched down next to him in his usual way, pawing at the ground with a bruised forefinger. Varric leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eye.

He felt a nudge at his shoulder a few minutes later and looked. Cole held something out to him and Varric blinked at the blurs in his vision. It was a waterskin. Varric nodded to him and took it, drinking deep.

"Kid, I'm sorry, sorry carries so little, words wanting yet not enough. Dredging the deep and dark, despair digging… my fault, I should have stopped him, Maker have mercy." It was the most Cole had spoken in three days. The kid's head dipped low as he continued pawing at the ground. "You're hurting and scared but you're afraid to tell me. But you don't have to worry, Varric. I know."

Varric had almost forgotten Cole still had that power. He dug into his deepest thoughts and pulled up things he wished would remain unsaid. Varric lowered the waterskin, not looking at Cole. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. For a writer, he found himself stuck with very few words. There was nothing he could say that Cole didn't already know.

"I'm okay, Varric." Cole said quietly. "I chose to come here. I knew it might get us hurt. I'm only scared because… I don't want Rhys to be dead… I don't want to not find him."

Varric looked over at Cole. "What happened between you and Rhys?"

Cole swallowed. Varric couldn't see his face because of his hat, but the silence spoke enough. He had asked a question Cole wasn't ready to answer. And yet… the kid answered anyway. He pawed at the ground more rapidly now.

"A long time ago… before I came to the Inquisition, I mean… Rhys was my only friend. He would visit me in the Pit… tell me stories… play games with me. He thought I was cursed and was trying to help me. No one… could see me. No one but him." Cole hesitated for quite some time, and Varric assumed he was done talking, but then he continued again. "One day he was taken away. I tried to protect him. Then… a man, an evil man… he showed me that I wasn't a person. I'd deceived Rhys the entire time… I wasn't real. I wasn't worth anything, I was a demon and I hurt him."

Varric frowned. So this happened after the original Cole died. Rhys befriended him as a spirit. And Cole didn't know he was a spirit at the time. As difficult to piece together as his story was, it made at least some sense to Varric.

"Why were you afraid to see Rhys again?"

"Because…" Cole swallowed. "Because I… I deceived him. He would be… so angry. He would hate me. That whole time we were friends, I… I was just a demon."

"You tried so hard to be a better person." Varric told him. "You proved it, Cole. To yourself, to the Inquisition, to everyone you know. You've done nothing but help people. You weren't a demon, and you certainly aren't one now."

Cole stopped digging on the ground. He lifted his head a little and looked over at Varric.

"You say I am a person now. More of a person than I was." He drew in a deep breath. "I want… Rhys to see it. Rhys to see me as I am now. I… I feel like he would be able to forgive me. Accept me."

"You don't even know if he was ever angry to begin with, Cole. He might miss you."

Cole lowered his head again. "I don't know." He began to stand again. "He's in danger and I want to help him. That's what I need to do now."

Varric opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. He heard something, far off in the distance. Slowly, he eased his way to his feet, looking past Cole into the darkness. "Do you hear that?" He whispered.

Cole turned his head. He didn't speak or nod, but it was obvious he did.

They crept closer to the source of the sound. Varric's heart thudded in his throat. Instinctively, he dropped his torch and put it out with a stamp of his foot. The only light now came from deep mushrooms which lined the walls and grew from the floor. It was enough light to navigate across the plaza.

The sound became clear to Varric's ears.

Voices. Human voices.

Cole started. He began to run towards the sound, but Varric snagged his wrist, nearly tripping Cole. The kid whirled around and gave him a frantic, almost betrayed look. Varric shook his head slowly, giving him a warning glare. He gestured with his hand towards the source of the noise, then continued to creep forward.

They found themselves on high ground, and as they approached a drop, they saw torchlight coming from below them. Varric and Cole both dropped to their bellies and peered down at the scene below them. The torches were carried by five people patrolling along what looked like minecart tracks, and they were standing among about seven Dwarven buildings. The people definitely weren't anyone he knew.

But it wasn't the orange glow of the torches that caught Varric's attention, or the people carrying them. It was the jagged, blood-red crystals that stuck out of the walls like some kind of disease.

Red lyrium. And those people were mining it.

He looked over at his side. Cole had reached up and covered his ears with both hands, staring at the lyrium with a horrified look. "It sings, but it's a terrible song." He whispered. "It hurts my head…"

"Yeah. It hurts mine too." Varric murmured. "Come on, let's get out of here-"

"But Rhys and Evangeline said they were coming to stop Red Lyrium smuggling." Cole cut him off. "What if they're in there!"

"Do you really think we can take all those smugglers by ourselves?"

Cole gave Varric a desperate look. "We have to try!"

Varric grimaced and considered their odds. It was true that Rhys and Evangeline stated in their report that they had come into the caves to put an end to Red Lyrium trade. And, as luck would have it, here he and Cole were. They had stumbled upon what was obviously a mine for the damned stuff. Yet there was only two of them, and five of who they could see. There could be more.

Squinting in the dark, Varric surveyed their surroundings. They did have the high ground- and the element of surprise. If there was a chance that Rhys and Evangeline had been taken captive by these people, was it worth the risk to be sure?

"They outnumber us," he began carefully, "but if we do this fast, we might be able to take them out before they notice us." Varric motioned toward a slope nearby. "If you slide down there, you'll be in their blind spot. You can sneak up on their patrol. I'll take out their sentries."

There was little else to be discussed. With a nod, Cole slunk off. He made no sound, even as he slid down the rocky slope and toward the patrolling smugglers. Varric saw the kid grasp at his dagger and slide it from its sheath.

He felt his pulse quicken in anticipation for the fight. He raised Bianca, aiming her square at the unsuspecting sentry perched atop the roof of a building. He pulled the trigger.

The bolt struck true. The sentry toppled forwards, falling the length of the building before hitting the ground with a resounding thud. At that moment, Cole had slit the throat of another smuggler, and the remaining three knew they were under attack. Now the cavern was filled with shouting. As an arrow whizzed over Varric's head, he knew he had been spotted.

He scrambled to his feet and loaded another bolt in Bianca's chamber. He aimed for the second archer, but the other ducked aside just as he pulled the trigger. He gave a frantic glance in Cole's general direction, trying to be sure he was okay, but he couldn't see him anywhere.

An arrow grazed his arm and Varric bit back a cry of pain. Without thinking, he dashed to the slope and half-stumbled, half-slid down. Another arrow missed him, and now one of the patrols drew a sword and ran for him, but Varric was already aiming at the archer. The bolt missed again and the swordsman was upon him.

Varric leapt back. Then he realized he didn't need to.

The swordsman collapsed, and Cole stood behind him, yanking a dagger out of his back.

Varric ran past Cole and raised Bianca. This time he wasn't going to miss.

_Thunk._

He heard something behind him but couldn't let his eyes leave his target. He shot at the archer, and at last, the man fell. He loaded another bolt in Bianca's chamber, hands flowing by instinct alone. There was one more swordsman, and he was retreating into a tunnel. He would feel Bianca's bolt in the back of his head and he dropped like a downed bird to the earth.

Varric's eyes scanned the chamber. He saw no one. No voices, no reinforcements. All he felt now was an aching in the back of his head, humming from the red lyrium. He lowered Bianca and groaned, feeling the ache in his exhausted muscles weigh his arms. "You alright, Kid?"

No response.

Varric turned to look over his shoulder where Cole had been. "Kid?"

He saw everything as if the moment was locked in time. Cole was crouched on the ground, doubled over, both hands clutching at his stomach. His head was lowered but Varric could hear him clearly. He gasped like a beached fish. Dark liquid pooled in large droplets on the ground beneath him, shimmering in the torchlight. _Drip… drip… drip..._

Then Varric saw it.

Something long and thin stuck out from Cole's stomach. The shaft of an arrow.

_Shit._

Varric flew to his side.

_Holy shit._

He took Cole by the shoulders and eased him down onto his back. He tried to unlatch the leather armor but found it too hard to remove around the arrow. He took Cole's dagger from the ground where it was dropped and cut the armor around the arrow. He tore at the black linens beneath, revealing the extent of the damage. The arrow stuck out an inch above his navel. Blood pooled around it, dribbling down, painting flesh red. Cole's sunken abdomen rose and fell in staggered intervals. Varric shook his head as if it would wake him up from a dream. He gasped a prayer to the Maker but he couldn't hear himself speak. He could only hear the kid's agonized breaths.

"It has to come out. I've got to seal the wound or you'll bleed to death."

Cole wasn't in a position to protest. He choked out a moan in response.

Varric's eyes darted around the room. He saw a torch nearby- dropped by one of the fallen- and grabbed it. He needed to make a bigger fire. The kindling from his pack was set on the ground and he built it larger still. He tore at his shirt but found it too damp with sweat. In desperation he cut strips of bandaging from his backpack and used it to feed the flames. He worried it wouldn't be hot enough. Would the wood of the smuggler's torch and cloth from his pack be enough?

Varric grabbed the dagger and shoved it into the fire. He left it there for as long as he dared, waiting to see if the metal would begin to glow with amber heat. Cole coughed nearby, something gurgling in his throat. Varric turned towards him and drew in a deep breath. There was little time to waste on emotion.

"I'm going to count to three." He grasped the arrow shaft. "One. Two."

He gave it a mighty yank and it came free with a squelch. The kid cried out. Blood rushed free. Varric felt his heart lodge itself in his throat but he couldn't stop yet. He wrapped his hand in fabric from his shirt and took the dagger out of the fire. Though he grasped only the handle, he felt it searing through the sweaty fabric and he fought the instinct to drop it. He couldn't waste much time. He did his best to wipe away the blood and sweat in preparation for what he was about to do.

He pressed the flat of the blade down against the open wound.

He wished Cole would faint. But the kid didn't. He gave a tortured moan and recoiled, breathing so hard and fast it was hard to keep the dagger in place. The young man clung at the ground, knuckles blanched, back arched. Varric pressed his free hand on Cole's chest, trying to keep him steady. He could smell the flesh searing.

Carefully he lifted the dagger and examined what he had done. The wound had blackened, and the flesh was an angry, blistered red around the edges. Some blood oozed free, but at least it wasn't rushing down anymore. Varric tossed the dagger aside as if it were a venomous snake. He grasped in his pack- were there any bandages left? He had been wise to save at least some. It was enough to wind around Cole's abdomen twice. He secured it in place.

Cole went very still. Varric could hear him breathing, ragged and weak. His eye was open but unfocused. Varric swept a hand over Cole's brow, brushing away hair and sweat. Then he lifted Cole's upper body into his lap and held him tight. He didn't pretend to know anything about medicine. There was going to be internal bleeding that he couldn't stop- kid's intestines were probably pierced.

Varric felt something wet trailing down his cheeks. He hadn't realized he was crying. He wiped at it with a bloodied hand, smearing red across his face. He didn't care. His mind raced. He was wasting time sitting here like this.

_Think, dammit. _

He had no idea where he was in the Deep Roads. But these were mine cart tracks. Surely they had to lead somewhere out of here. But what if it went for miles? Cole would surely die by then.

Varric wondered grimly if this would have happened if Cole was a spirit. He had never seen him hurt so badly before. In all the scraps they'd been in together, out of all the nasty injuries he'd seen himself and his friends end up with, it was always Cole who somehow managed to come out less of a mess than anyone else. Whatever injury his human visage possessed seemed to pale in comparison and go away when no one was looking.

Now the kid had gone pale as a corpse, his breaths strained and coming with effort. As Varric held him, Cole lurched and coughed. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth. Looking around the room, Varric saw no other option. He needed to carry Cole along the minecart tracks and hope it led him out instead of further into the Red Lyrium beyond. His only hope was a mage.

Just as Varric began gathering Cole up into his arms, he paused.

Rhys. Of course. If Rhys was in any of these rooms, he could help Cole. It was a long shot- but at this point, everything was. Varric had to look. Though the idea occurred to him that more of the smugglers might be lurking beyond, he had to take the chance. He didn't want to put any strain on Cole's wounds, but he couldn't risk leaving him here.

He picked up what was left in his pack and Bianca, strapping them against his back. Next he snaked his arms beneath Cole's back and legs and stood with a grunt. The kid didn't weigh much- probably little more than a hundred pounds- but Varric was exhausted. Cole's size made him awkward for the Dwarf to carry. His arms were too short to support his weight comfortably. Still, necessity bore down and urged him on, adrenaline pumping through his body.

He slowly opened the door to the first room. There was nothing but storage, probably for raw red lyrium. Varric wandered to the second room and opened it slowly. It was dusty and relatively empty, save for a few sleeping mats, a table, a dresser, cupboards, and kegs. Varric closed the door and began to move to the third house.

It was then when he heard voices and footsteps coming from somewhere, perhaps through the tunnel. He froze. If it was more smugglers- and without doubt it would be- he had no chance.

He reacted. He ran back to the room with the mats and flung himself inside. He pulled the door shut and searched frantically for a way to lock it or barricade it. There- a lock. He pulled the deadbolt in place but knew it wouldn't be enough. Could he rig the lock to be more secure? Did he have time? Already he heard raised voices outside. The smugglers without doubt saw their dead comrades.

"What happened here!? Darkspawn!?"

"No- these weren't caused by Darkspawn weapons!"

"Find them!"

Varric's heart thumped. He searched wildly around. If they thought to look here and find a way to open the door, he had to hide!

As quietly as he could, he approached a cupboard and opened the door. There was nothing inside but dust and cobwebs. He threw a glance over his shoulder. The doorknob shook and then someone banged on it. "It's locked!" He heard.

Varric pushed Cole inside the cupboard. He could fit if he lay lengthwise- each cupboard connected to the one adjacent to it. Varric then heard something scraping against the door behind him. A lockpick? He couldn't spare the glance to tell. He wanted to join Cole in the cupboard, but what then? Heart thumping, he grabbed at Bianca and closed the cupboard door. He faced the entrance to the house and aimed Bianca at the door, chest heaving silent breaths.

He heard a snapping sound from outside, then a curse.

"Just give up, you know how these Dwarven locks are." Someone said. "If they're in there, they'll starve eventually."

"My booze is in there."

"Forget about it! We have to do something about these bodies…!"

"Hmgf. They got Jacques. Never liked him."

Silence fell outside. Varric slumped against the cupboard, spent. His mind could hardly catch up to everything that had happened. He and Cole were stuck in here- likely forever. If he tried to leave, they'd be ready for him. They'd cut him down. And Cole was going to die if he stayed. They both were going to die.

"Maker…" Varric choked, but whatever prayer he wanted to bring to his lips, it fell short. He heard a rustling and a scraping sound from within the cupboard. It sounded like Cole was pawing at the door, fingernails scraping wood. Varric turned around and opened the door.

Cole was looking at him, pale as wax and shaking. Dried blood covered his cheeks and stained his hair. One of his hands reached out towards Varric and grasped his shoulder. It trembled.

"Don't leave me in here." His voice was hardly above a whisper. His eyes had been unfocused before, but now they were wide and pleading. "Please get me out… please..."

Varric choked back a sob. He reached for Cole's shoulders and dragged him out of the cupboard and into his lap. He held the boy close, rocking back and forth, burying his bloodied face into his shoulder.


	9. Khyran: Safe

_A/N: I've taken some liberties with the Fade here. Not entirely sure how lore-appropriate this is, but, oh well. I'll run with it x.x  
Also, I've edited some earlier chapters, fixing small errors and adding a bit more of a punch to my writing voice in some places. Trying to slowly learn how to stop using so much passive voice.  
_  
**NINE**

Of the three of them, Solas was the lightest. They spared little time discussing strategy. No manner of ice magic Solas could conjure would be reliable enough to create a stairway on the way down, and if either of the mages could move earth and mountains, Khyran was sure they would have done so long ago. Bull withdrew a long rope from his pack and Solas wound it around himself and tied it securely in place.

Nimbly, the Elf approached the edge of the ravine and hoisted himself over the edge. Bull and Khyran both held the rope and ensured he wouldn't plummet to the same fate as the others below. He moved quickly, with purpose, fingers digging into the sharp rocks and feet scraping as he half-climbed, half-slid down. Khyran watched him from solid ground, his mouth dry, hands chafing on the rope. When Solas reached the shelf of rock beneath them, he knelt down near Evangeline and touched her shoulder.

"Do you have the strength to hold on to me?"

Evangeline pointed. "Rhys… get… get him first. Please. He… needs it more…"

"Rhys is alive, then?"

"I… I think so... " Evangeline winced. "The others aren't… couldn't save them… tried to-"

"Shh. You can explain it once you're safe."

Solas turned towards Rhys. He didn't look alive, and Evangeline herself didn't sound so certain. He stood there for some time, as though considering his plan. The two soldiers were dead on the shelf, near them were supplies quite obviously dwindling- four backpacks, weapons, armor.

"If I'm careful, I can create ice beneath us, use it to push us upwards. But it would take some time, and I'm not certain being exposed to so much cold will do them well." He said. "It would be safest not to use magic." With that said, he pulled Rhys's unmoving body up into his arms. Rhys's head fell back limply. Both his eyes were open, but glazed over. He was unconscious or dead. Khyran couldn't tell at this distance, and Solas spoke nothing of his vitals.

"Is that rope secure?" Bull asked. "I can pull you both up, but you gotta be careful."

Solas tugged at the rope still wound around his waist and legs. "Yes." The Elf wound his arms beneath Rhys's held him tightly. "Ready."

Both Bull and Khyran heaved the rope. Solas strained with the effort of lifting Rhys and Iron Bull grunted with each pull. Khyran saw veins bulging in his muscles. He felt like he was hardly helping at all. He counted the seconds as he pulled back. _Ten, twenty, thirty… two minutes... there._

Bull grabbed Solas around his collar and tugged him up. Solas slid on his back, Rhys effectively dragged on top of him. Khyran panted like a dog, wiping at the sweat on his brow. He dropped to his knees and pulled Rhys off of Solas, sliding him onto his back and pressing a hand to his face. It was warm.

"He's alive." For some reason, Khyran didn't feel relieved. Not yet.

"I'm going back for Evangeline." Solas said, already nearing the edge of the wall. His face glistened with sweat, but there was no time to rest.

"Are you going to get the dead ones?" Bull asked.

Solas didn't answer. Just as he was about to lower himself over the edge again, he looked expectantly at Khyran.

For the Inquisitor, it wasn't a difficult choice to make. He nodded. "We can't just leave them down there."

Khyran couldn't tell if Solas was going to protest or not. He didn't want to make Solas work so hard, but he knew if it were him in Solas's position, he'd know it was the right thing to do. The Elf's expression remained blank. He turned and began to descend to the shelf once more.

* * *

A soft green light flowed from the Elf's hands as he trailed it up and down Rhys's body. Evangeline sat nearby, shivering, silent tears dropping into the bowl of food in her hands. No one spoke. All Khyran could do was watch. He always wanted to learn healing spells, but for some reason, he never had the knack for it. He tried on more than one occasion, but only ended up setting something on fire or electrocuting himself instead. All he could do was bandage and salve Evangeline's surface wounds and give her something warm to eat. She had broken several ribs, but Rhys had it worse. Cracked his skull, fractured a leg, snapped ribs, was bruised and cut all over.

Iron Bull grimly examined the bodies they had retrieved. Evangeline told them their names- Nikolas and Mark. Khyran rubbed at his face, trying to think of what to do. They'd been dead for two days, she said. Their faces were already unrecognizable and the stench of death clogged the air around them. Should he burn the bodies here, notify the family of their deaths and offer them only ashes to remember them by? Or should he go through the trouble of carrying them all the way back out of the Deep Roads?

By then, they'd be toting along corpses so rotted and decayed, Khyran felt sick at the thought.

"What happened, Evangeline?" The question came from Solas as he worked, his glowing hands hovering over Rhys's head.

Evangeline blinked quickly, her breaths hard and heavy.

"So much…" She replied weakly. "So much happened. We… couldn't escape. We got careless…" The woman chewed on her lower lip so hard, Khyran thought he saw blood. "It… was entirely my fault. I wasn't watching- we were ambushed, and… this whole cave. Swarming with them… knocked us down there..."

"How long ago?"

"Days… I don't know. I don't remember. Five… maybe."

Khyran blinked. Only five days? Then what were they doing before that? They were down here weeks before Cullen realized their reports had stopped coming in.

"Were you lost down here?" He asked quietly.

"Yes. Things… kept going wrong…"

"What things?"

But Evangeline didn't reply. She just shook her head and stared down at her bowl. For a time, it seemed she wouldn't speak anymore, and Khyran wouldn't press her. But then, she continued. "We were desperate. Rhys began sending spirits, trying to use them to guide us out of here. But the more … lost we got, the more desperate Rhys became. He … accidentally let through demons when he opened the Veil."

"We took care of the demons." Khyran assured her. "And one of those spirits found us. It's how we got here."

Evangeline squeezed her eyes shut, the look on her face something between a smile of agony and a grimace of pain.

"Evangeline, none of this is your fault." Khyran reached over to grasp her shoulder. "Not yours or Rhys's. I… I'm sorry you got caught up in all this. I shouldn't have allowed your mission to go through to begin with. It was too dangerous."

Evangeline dropped her bowl and buried her face in her hands. She trembled. Khyran pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back, murmuring soothing things. He didn't even know what he was saying. He just wanted to take her pain away. But he knew it wouldn't be possible.

"Rhys is going to live. But he's very weak." Solas said after a long silence. "He needs proper medical care at Skyhold. My magic can only do so much, but I believe he will make the journey."

"Thank… thank the Maker…" Evangeline whispered from beneath Khyran's arm. "I… I didn't think anyone would find us. I… I was tempted to give up hope."

Khyran looked up towards Bull, but he wasn't looking at anyone. All he saw was the back of Bull's horned head where he gazed off into the darkness. He could only guess what was on the Qunari's mind. Rhys and Evangeline had been found, despite his doubts. Now all they could do was wait until they were fit to travel. Rhys would have to be carried without a doubt. But they deserved a safe and comfortable rest.

They deserved so much more than that.

* * *

Later, the bodies were burned. Khyran paid what respects he could and said a prayer to the Maker. He hoped their souls found safe passage through the Fade and into the Maker's arms- if such a thing happened at all. He wanted to believe it did. Evangeline watched the funeral pyre nearly without blinking, jaw rigid. Her tears had long dried. Something of a stoic silence had settled in her, and she refused to elaborate on just what sorts of trials she had faced down here that had driven Rhys to use his magic irresponsibly. Khyran wondered how such an experienced Mage could've let the demons through. It must have been horrible, whatever it was.

Evangeline laid down on a sleeping mat near Rhys and curled against him, her forehead nearly touching his. Khyran watched them for a few moments, then looked away, almost embarrassed. He felt as though he were intruding on something intimate. He moved some ways away from them, though still near enough to the campfire to feel its warmth, and laid down.

He fell asleep knowing Solas had the night watch.

Around him, jagged stones floated in the air, suspended without reason. The sky pulsed with auroras, and the Black City loomed in the distance, on an island ever so far away. Khyran reached up and rubbed at his eyes, looking around. Everything seemed desolate and empty here, all greys and blacks beneath a twisted green sky.

It was the Raw Fade, and he was dreaming.

Khyran didn't always remain conscious and aware of his time in the Fade. It only happened on occasion as he slept, and rarely did he do or see anything interesting. For some reason he felt different in this one. He waved his fingers in front of him, absent-mindedly, then he caught sight of a figure standing some ways away from him.

He blinked. "Rhys?"

The figure turned. Rhys appeared as he usually did: fourty-something, handsome, well-kept. He appeared healthy here- his injuries and bruises gone. Rhys tugged at his sleeves and sighed, giving Khyran an apologetic look. "Sorry I missed the party." He strode over to Khyran, offering a hand. "I wanted to thank you for getting me out of that hole. Unfortunately, my… body just doesn't want to cooperate right now. This was the best I could do."

Khyran watched him warily. "How do I know you're not a demon?"

Rhys's hand recoiled, but his smile remained. "For someone with a power like yours, you don't know much about the Fade, do you?"

Khyran shook his head. "I close the rips in the Veil when I see them. I entered bodily twice before. But most of the time, it's just a dream to me."

Rhys nodded. "Forcing yourself into a specific place with specific people in the Fade isn't… easy to do. Not without raw Lyrium. But you're different- it's that mark on your hand. Makes you special like that. I felt it and decided I'd not pass up the opportunity to follow you in here. Trust me- I'm no demon." Rhys turned, gazing out towards the Black City beyond.

"People tell me a lot of different things about this mark." Khyran sighed. "All I know is Corypheus wanted something with it, or this… orb I touched. I try not to think about it."

Rhys nodded solemnly and didn't offer any more thoughts. Silence in the Fade always felt deeper than in the real world. There was little sound here beyond things he could not describe or relate to. There was a was not like the wind.

"It was a real mess. I'm afraid I made a few errors of judgement. I… feel like those poor boys died because of me." The smile had faded from Rhys's voice. His tired eyes were set on the distant horizon.

"Were you awake when I was talking to Evangeline?" Khyran asked.

"Mostly, yes. At least, I tried to be. You can't imagine how frustrating it was to be unable to say anything to any of you."

"You know it's not your fault, Rhys. These… these things happen. As awful as it is."

Rhys started to speak, but his head suddenly turned in alarm. Khyran saw it too- he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Someone was standing on an outcropping of rock far away, silhouetted against the bright sky behind him. The person was difficult to see at this distance, but Khyran thought he looked familiar. Was it a spirit or demon, playing tricks on his mind and dredging up a memory?

The figure on the rock began to creep closer to them, and as he neared Khyran saw him more clearly. He was thin and willowy. And he wore a wide-brimmed hat.

Rhys beat him to it.

"Cole?"


	10. Cole: Fading

_A/N: Excerpt taken from "Hard in Hightown" codex entry from Dragon Age: Inquisition. It is an in-game book "written by Varric" and thus I do not own the content of said codex entry. Everything else, of course, is "my" content- as much as I can claim ownership over a fanfiction, anyway. :P_

**TEN**

"Jevlan was waiting outside the captain's office when Donnen Brennokovic slunk out, defeated.

'We're not getting a warrant, are we?' Jevlan looked almost relieved.

'No.' Donnen met his partner's eyes. The kid was barely twenty and looked like he'd walked straight to the Kirkwall barracks from somebody's potato farm. Taller and broader than the other guards, Jevlan slouched as if he didn't known how to fit into his own limbs, as if he thought he should be smaller. Hunched over in his brand-new, too-large armor, he looked like a child playing at being a guard. He was too green for a murder investigation. Still with me, Cole?"

Cole responded by opening his eyes, then closing them again. It was all he could manage.

Varric continued reading his book. "'Maybe it's for the best,' Jevlan said, almost speaking Donnen's thought out loud. 'You're on your way out of the guard, and I'm...' he trailed off, then sighed. 'Questioning nobles in the middle of the night wasn't covered in training.'

Donnen glared at the kid. 'I'm a city guard. And so are you, recruit. Nobody gets away with murder while we're on duty.'

Jevlan stood a little straighter. 'What do we do, then?'

'The captain wants proof.' Donnen smiled. 'We bring her proof.' Still with me, Cole?"

It had been going on like this for a long time. Varric would read, pause, and ask him if he was still alive. Cole didn't know how much time had gone by. All was sharp and sick and stabbing and and sweat. Hard in Hightown mixed up with Varric's fear and pain. The stories floated in and out of his mind as he drifted through the miasma of agony. At times Cole couldn't separate the fake people from the real one who cradled him in his lap, bent over the book's pages now stained with teardrops and blood.

He felt Varric shift, felt an arm beneath his head and then the opening of a canteen against his mouth. He let his lips part, let the cool water trickle inside. He had not the strength even to draw in a sip. He felt so thirsty, but his insides roiled. Varric tried to give him more water but he couldn't drink more. It spilled from the corners of his mouth. He bit back a cough- his abdomen burned in the effort.

Varric removed a damp cloth from his forehead and then put it back. It was colder now. He must have added water to it.

"Your fever isn't breaking." Varric murmured. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can give you…"

Fever… feverish… fire. It felt like fire, not a flickering but a red, raging, raw ache. "Maker, please, he hasn't done anything wrong. Begging to ears that won't listen, abandoned us as He abandoned the world. But I have done something wrong, Varric. I've done a lot wrong…" Cole spoke with effort, trying to navigate through the chaos of thoughts in his own mind and Varric. "Can't wish it away, wave off the weariness, but it stays... in me, in you, I'm sorry, so sorry, sorry isn't strong enough."

"What are you talking about?" Varric laughed, but Cole thought it sounded sad. "You haven't done anything wrong, Cole. Nothing."

"I killed many people. It was wrong. I-" Cole coughed. Speaking hurt his stomach. If he didn't speak, it still hurt. But now it was hurting harder than ever. He heard such pain in other souls, consuming and cutting, but it was never him. He listened to the scraping on the inside of his head, but now it was on the outside, it was him scraping him. His body bleeding dry like a desert, desperate with a want for water and blood and breath. Perhaps he deserved this. "I have done terrible things, Varric... I wanted to help, to make it all go away... I tried to run from responsibility, but the running brought me here..."

"Don't talk." Varric urged. His voice was so calm and hushed but Cole could feel the panic in him, bubbling under the surface as he tried to keep it from spilling over. Varric was trying not to let Cole know how hopeless he felt, how he feared a horrible fate was creeping up on them like a hungry animal. But, of course, Cole knew. Varric's fear was an open book to him, nearly palpable. He wanted to take it away. He wanted to say soothing things to Varric, make him relax, then make him _forget_.

Cole wanted nothing more than to make Varric forget about him, then he could crawl away into some hole and die. He wanted to die without fearing what pain it would bring to the Dwarf who had always been so kind to him. But he couldn't do that anymore. Forcing someone to forget about him was now as easy as becoming a bird and taking to the sky.

Well... he didn't **want** to die. Not truly. He wanted to live, there were still so many people he needed to help. And people who would miss him, too. But... living... he just didn't see how it would be possible now. The easiest thing to do would be to let himself slip away. It would be nice… like drifting away on a river, letting it carry him away to mysterious lands. Perhaps it would not be so bad. People always feared death, but was there truly anything to fear in the face of a harsher reality? It would be a release- just like the suffering people he released so long ago, down in the dungeons of the White Spire...

Then, a memory penetrated through his stupor, strong enough to jolt him back to reality. He was reliving the fate of the original Cole- suffering and dying in a prison, and someone was holding his hand. Someone born of compassion and a gentle heart. No- no, never, he could not let this happen again. Not again. He wanted to help the original Cole, to save him, to give him a new life and let him live happily. He had done so much and worked so hard, why did he want to give up now?

His fists clenched and clenched. He must have made a sound, because Varric held him a little closer- he felt his arms tensing beneath his back. Varric was talking but Cole couldn't hear him. Focus, find footholds, however fleeting... exist here, exist in this world... He felt Varric's hand on his cheek, listened to his heartbeat. A voice came into focus. He missed most of it. "...-n't take it away, Cole. Don't fall asleep. Can you hear me?"

Cole wanted to answer. He made as if to speak, abdomen tensing. Instead, his insides gave a jolt and what came up were not words, but blood. Too much of it. He'd rather have it stay inside- that's where it belonged. Varric held him close as he heaved and coughed. Everything was so out of focus but he saw the red stain slowly seeping through the dwarf's clothes... he knew Varric liked that shirt. He tried to apologize, but the words never made it past his head. He felt Varric's rough sleeve against his chin, wiping the blood away. The coppery taste lingered on his tongue. He wanted to be rid of it. Too much effort.

"You alright? You alright, kid? Stay awake, okay? I'm going to keep reading. We haven't even gotten to the good part yet."

He listened. Donnen and Jevlan continued their investigation and Cole let them hold his attention as long as he could. It was so hard. His body protested every second he stayed awake. The fire grew in the pit of his stomach and he wished he could rip it out, rip himself apart so he wouldn't have to endure it anymore.

_Stay awake._ He urged himself.

_Stay awake… _He was coughing again, blood gurgling in his throat. Varric was moving him. Up, down, sideways, he didn't know. It all seemed one to him.

_Stay… awake… _Drifting felt so nice.

_S t a y…_

* * *

It was home, but he was a stranger here. It was both so familiar and so foreign. He belonged and yet he didn't. Which was it?

Cole drifted through the Fade. The spirit knew this place, navigated it, yet the human dreamed. There was the farmhouse- no. He had to keep moving. It wasn't his. Not anymore. Charred earth against his feet. He opened a door, stepped through. Skyhold. Stone ramparts. Home. Not home. No. He opened another door. Therinfall Redoubt. No. He drifted across the walls, ceiling, floors. In, out, this way, that. Time meant nothing here. He could've been moving for seconds. Days.

A light.

He saw it like a star. It was a warm green light, ever flowing, tempting him like a moth to a flame. He walked, then ran. He burst through until he was somewhere else, somewhere beyond a dream, beyond a memory.

He was standing on one of the floating rocks in the Raw Fade. The light was so close. He could see it through the rocks, but where was it coming from?

Cole jumped nimbly down to the ground. He approached a hill and looked out upon the land, across the twisted stones and grey void. Then he saw the light. It came from someone's left hand.

Inquisitor Khyran Trevelyan.

He was with someone, too. Another man. But Cole couldn't see who it was at this distance. He crept closer to them, trying to make out a face. _Gently… gently… there.  
_  
When the man's face became clear to him, Cole froze. He stared at them like a cornered mouse, jaw slightly agape, every muscle poised to bolt. It was Rhys. It couldn't really be Rhys! No- it had to be a demon or spirit impersonating Rhys, reading Cole's memories and forming the man he so desperately longed to see and so desperately wished he would never see again.

"Cole?" Said Rhys.

Cole took a step backwards. Then another. He didn't take his eyes off of Rhys.

"Don't go!" Rhys said, but Khyran put a hand on his shoulder.

"Probably a spirit impersonating him." Khyran said quietly, but something in his voice gave away doubt. Or was it sorrow? "Both of us know Cole… it wouldn't be out of the question for them to be creating him in this dream."

Cole stopped moving backwards, staring at them. Did… both of them think the other was just a spirit? Was this a trick? Surely it had to be a trick. The demons knew what he feared and created that fear.

"Something… seems strange about this, though." Rhys mused, squinting over at Cole. "I should… be able to sense him, if he was a spirit. But I could never sense Cole before." Rhys chewed his lower lip. "That only makes me feel as though this really is him."

"What do you mean by that?"

"When I first met Cole, I didn't sense him. If he was a spirit here in the Fade impersonating him, I think I could tell. But I… don't. He feels… normal. Normal for Cole, anyway..." Rhys's voice grew more quiet as he spoke, squinting at Cole as he grew contemplative.

"You think it's really Cole?" Khyran asked. "That's impossible. He isn't anywhere near us."

"People don't necessarily have to be near you to find you in the Fade." Rhys said. "We have to talk to him. If he is a demon, we can handle him. If he's not… we have too much to lose not to speak to him. It could be important, he wouldn't have a reason to be here if it wasn't."

"Rhys, you haven't exactly handled demons well, given recent circumstances…" Khyran said warily, but Rhys ignored him. He shook his head slowly and began to approach Cole.

With every step Rhys took towards Cole, he took a step backwards. Then, he turned and ran. He couldn't talk to this demon, not while it was wearing Rhys's face! It was a trick! He flew through the Fade, not daring to look over his shoulder. He heard them shouting behind him.

"Cole, stop! It's me, Rhys!"

"It's okay, Cole!" Khyran cried.

Around them, the landscape of the dream changed. The Deep Roads sprang up around them as if they had been there all along. They twisted through a labyrinth of corridors. He had to lose them. Left, right, left, left, down, right, forward, right, left. He burst into a large chamber. Everything glowed red. The Red Lyrium crystals shot out from every surface like the teeth of wolves.

He came to a dead end. There was no way out. Cole turned around, his breaths hitching. He backed up until he felt the spike of a crystal prodding him in the spine. He was trapped here.

Khyran and Rhys- or the demons impersonating them- fell into the room. Their faces shone with sweat and they watched Cole with heavy breaths. "It's really me!" Rhys said between breaths, raising his hands, palms facing outward. Cole shook his head frantically.

Then, an archer appeared.

A Red Lyrium smuggler. He was standing on the ceiling. Khyran and Rhys started, alert, eyes darting. A magic staff appeared in Rhys's hands. He summoned a shield of energy but it was too late. _Fwit!_ The arrow sailed and struck its target true. It stuck out of Cole's stomach, turning him into a grotesque pincushion. The pain was unimaginable. He dropped to one knee.

He heard a burst of energy- something like lightning. Screaming. Then someone was crying his name. "Cole!" Two someones. He teetered. The demons were going to take him here, turn him into an abomination! Arms encircled him and he struggled, trying to break free, but he was so very weak...

"Cole. Stop. Stop struggling!" Rhys said. His hands pinned Cole's arms to his sides.

"Is he going to die!?"

"This is the Fade. If you're killed here, you won't die in the real world, not normally." Rhys said. "But it could hurt him. If this is really him."

Cole coughed at blood. He felt sick. His vision swam and blurred at the edges. "Get away… you're a demon. A trick…" He rasped, eyes rolling back as he struggled to come to his senses.

"What happened, Cole? What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Rhys…" Cole answered weakly. "I'm looking for Rhys…"

"I'm right here. You're going to be alright."

"No… they shot me… I'm dying."

"You're not dying. It's the Fade. You're going to wake up and you'll be alright. Here, let me help you now."

"No. They shot me. I'm dying." Cole repeated, the strength waning from his voice. "They shot me. They shot me. I need to find Rhys. I'm dying. They shot me."

The blood around the arrow poured impossibly out of him, pooling on the floor. Everything was red, so blinding red. He thought he heard Rhys's voice, but it was fading away. Everything was fading away.

Silence.


	11. Khyran: Faith

**ELEVEN**

Khyran woke with a gasp. He shot upright, breathing heavily. No- he didn't want to wake up yet! Not yet! Everything about that dream felt wrong. He needed to stay longer, figure it out! Already the dream was threatening to seep away from his memory, like sand between splayed fingers. Cole. What was Cole doing there?

He turned towards the place where Rhys slept. The man's eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling. He, too, looked as if he had just seen a ghost- or rather, **the **ghost- or maybe his pallid complexion was simply due to his condition. Solas was crouching over him, exhaust evident on his features as he channeled a healing spell into Rhys. Khyran wondered if Solas had been doing that all night. Rhys had definitely been given something to eat and drink, which was promising. Evangeline was still curled at Rhys's side and Khyran couldn't tell if she was awake or not.

"Rhys?" He said.

Rhys's eyes slid over to look at Khyran without moving his head. The green light from Solas's glowing hands illuminated his sweaty face.

"You were there with me. In the Fade. Right?"

"Yes." Rhys croaked. Khyran winced. His voice sounded so much more worn here, so much more weak. Khyran got up and walked closer to him. Solas looked suspiciously between the two, but said nothing. It was obvious the gears were turning in his head. Evangeline began to sit up. It was obvious she hadn't slept at all. She did not speak.

"What do you make of it?" Khyran sat down next to Rhys. "Can you tell me? Are you well enough?"

"I think he was trying to contact us."

"But he thought we were demons."

"Doesn't matter. In the Fade, your fears and desires become real, no matter what you see around you. What happened to him in there was a message. But I don't understand… he's a spirit… I've seen him hurt before, but he was just confused at the time. He forgot he was a spirit, pretended he had a body until it was tangible. Physical injury shouldn't actually kill him. He only bleeds because he thinks he should."

"Cole isn't purely spirit anymore."

Rhys stared incredulously at Khyran. One of his brows quirked. "Pardon?"

Khyran wanted to answer, but Bull cut him off. "The hell are you talking about?" He asked groggily from nearby, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Cole? He and Varric are at the ranch, right?"

"I don't think they are." Khyran replied, unable to mask the growing fear from his voice. The more he thought about it, the more alarming this situation became. The puzzle pieces were falling into place. At least, some of them. And the picture they were making did not look pleasant.

"Explain what you experienced." Solas said, the glow fading from his hands. He set his eyes on Khyran, something quite penetrating beneath his gaze. Rhys exhaled slowly, his eyes drifting shut again.

"Rhys visited me when I dreamed last night." Khyran told him. "He wanted to thank me. We didn't speak long until Cole showed up. Rhys didn't sense he was a spirit. We think it was really him. He… got scared when he saw us. He thought we were demons and ran off so we followed him. Then a spirit took the form of an archer and shot him. I… don't remember much after that. I think I woke up."

Solas stiffened as Khyran spoke. "Cole's nature is more complex now than it was. He is supposed to be a pure spirit. Now he is intermingled with human qualities." He pursed his lips and looked down at Rhys. He was probably thinking out loud. "Normally a person would not be able to just stumble upon another dreamer. But Cole is not a normal person, and neither are you."

"Do you think it was him, Solas?"

"Yes. And I do agree. Intentional or not, he was looking for help."

Rhys and Evangeline had exchanged looks. It was difficult to read their expressions but Khyran could tell they were at the very least alarmed.

"Do you think what happened to him in the Fade reflected reality?" Evangeline asked quietly, in a tone that suggested subdued panic.

"Yes. I do not, however, know if it was a metaphor or not. I do believe the archer spirit was recreating an event that happened in reality- be it physical or not, we have no way to know for sure. Where was Cole in the dream? Where was he leading you?"

Khyran's heart skipped a beat. "...Through some labyrinth in the Deep Roads. He was surrounded by red lyrium." He said as the realization slowly became more clear to him. His eyes widened. "Oh, Maker. He didn't leave. He's still looking for Rhys! He's been hurt!" He bolted upright. "I should've known he would do this!"

"Some labyrinth in the Deep Roads doesn't help." Iron Bull was standing now, packing up his things with some manner of urgency. "Where is this place? Do you know?"

"I was in the fade! How should I know!?" Khyran snagged at his own hair in exasperation. "Solas! What should we do?!"

"This is your decision. Not mine, Inquisitor." The Elf replied. There was a solemn ache behind his eyes.

"He was sending a message and needed help. I… I'd like to answer it, I just don't know how." He said, grasping at his forehead. "Can I go back to the Fade? Fall back asleep, see if I can figure out where he is?"

"There is no guarantee you would find him again. And you can't force a journey into a specific place without the assistance of raw Lyrium and we have none of that. Even if you did find him, by then, it may be too late."

"But he led me through a maze! I don't even remember where it is! Even if I were to find that labyrinth, I don't know if I could remember the way through it!"

"As I said, Inquisitor, the decision is not mine. We have very few options. We can split up- we can take Rhys and Evangeline to the surface while you search for Cole. We can leave here together and pray that your assumption of what you saw in the Fade is incorrect, though I doubt that is the case. Or we go with you, together, even with our injured companions, to look for this labyrinth and navigate it. We would, of course, be relying on your memory of a dream."

"I was there too." Rhys spoke up. Khyran could hear the effort in his strained voice. "I remember that place he brought us to. Evangeline and I went down there once before. But we ended up at a dead end and turned back."

Khyran's heart gave a jolt. "It's not hopeless, then!? You know where the entrance to that labyrinth is?!"

"Yes, but… he was moving so fast. I don't know if … either of us can remember the right way."

All was silent for several moments. Khyran mulled over the decision, but it was not hard for him to know what needed to be done."We found you, didn't we? It seemed hopeless, but… we found you. I'm not leaving the Deep Roads until all of my friends are together and we can get out of here in one piece."

No one spoke for a few seconds, then Rhys shut his eyes. "Cole is my friend. Thank you for… giving him a chance, Inquisitor. Just, uh… give me a moment to leap to my feet and I'll be sure to make myself more than useless." Rhys's attempt to make light of a pressing issue, though probably meant with good intentions, did nothing more than dampen Khyran's spirits.

"I'm sorry, Rhys." Khyran grimaced. "I… thought Bull might carry you, but if we encounter Darkspawn…"

"I'll just put him down. It won't be too difficult, Boss." Bull slung his backpack over his broad shoulders. The thing probably weighed as much as Khyran did. It could probably fit him in it, too.

"I was curious as to how a Qunari came upon the Inquisition," Rhys began, but trailed. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if steeling himself against some unseen pain. "But...that's probably a story for another day…"

"Don't hold your breath. It really isn't all that interesting." Bull had approached Rhys, cracking his neck and popping his fingers in a rolling crack. "Solas?"

"I have done my best to mend the bones." Solas stood upright, staff gripped in his hand. Khyran thought he wavered a little. He had spent so much of himself on intensive magic lately… Khyran wondered how he was still standing at all. "But it will be some time before Rhys has any strength of his own. His injuries were severe and there is little to do but give him time. Careful with his head."

Bull lifted Rhys from the ground with a surprising amount of gentleness. He held him bridal-style, his head resting against the Qunari's leather pauldron. Rhys winced, but did not otherwise speak. Evangeline eased her way to her feet. She teetered, and Solas offered her his arm.

"Evangeline… dear… do you remember where the labyrinth is…?" Rhys asked, the strength from his voice already waning.

"I do, love. Be still. Rest." She began to take the lead. Khyran thought she looked as though she wanted to say something else, but she didn't. With Solas supporting her, however, he wondered if he would have a chance to speak to her privately.

It seemed he did not have to wonder long. As they began to leave the cavern, Evangeline began to speak. Her eyes were set upon the distant tunnels and she did not once look at anyone.

"Thank you for saving us, Inquisitor. Rhys and I are alive because of you. I… thought we would undoubtedly perish. You had every reason not to come down here and risk your life… I don't even understand why you did."

The answer was not difficult. "Everyone who gives their loyalty to the Inquisition deserves a chance. I wasn't going to give up on anyone."

"Yet you came personally." At this, emotion finally wormed its way into Evangelines tone. He saw her eyes shining. "You were willing to put your own life at risk for us. Words cannot express how deeply this affects me." She chewed her lower lip. "I just… did not expect Cole to…" She trailed.

"He wanted to come. He wanted to see you and Rhys again."

"And… look at where that has gotten him…" Evangeline lifted a hand to wipe at her cheek. "I pray, for his sake, your vision was not the truth. Cole does not deserve to suffer."

"And if it was. we'll find him, Evangeline. Just as I found you."

"If it were any other person saying that… I would not be inclined to believe them."

* * *

Evangeline's memory proved true. The group found themselves standing at the entrance of a vast archway, near a small chasm which dropped deep into the ground. No doubt Darkspawn had been crawling out of that hole- and Khyran didn't want to stay long to find out how often they used it.

"Rhys and I have been through here earlier. But we kept coming to dead ends. We were looking for Red Lyrium smugglers, but they've hidden their routes well."

"Solas. Do you think there's a way to convince a spirit in the Fade to recreate a memory of anyone coming through here? Maybe they'd recreate Cole fleeing through this labyrinth?" Khyran asked.

"Possible." Solas answered. "but I do not think it wise. It would likely take too much precious time. It may be best to rely on your memory, Inquisitor."

Rely on his memory of a dream? A dream in which he was running so fast he couldn't tell his left foot from his right? Khyran swallowed hard. If he didn't go the right way the first time… it might be too late.

"Don't any of you even think about splitting up." Khyran said over his shoulder to those who followed him.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Boss."

They entered through the archways and into the Dwarven halls. The ceilings reached high, and the walls elaborately carved. Whoever built the maze intended to keep people here a long time. Khyran's heart thudded in his chest and he felt heat rising beneath his collar as the pressure bore down on him. In actuality, he had no idea where he was going. He couldn't plan this out even if he wanted to. Like so many of his decisions before this moment, he flew by the seat of his pants. There wasn't even the faintest inkling that he was going the right way. Whatever memory of his experience in the Fade left his mind entirely.

He stopped thinking. He let his feet carry him where they wanted to go. Each hall ended in more halls, each turn ended in more turns, and his followers came with him in silence. They seemed almost afraid of breaking his concentration, but he wasn't concentrating. There was nothing to concentrate on.

Thirty minutes passed before they came to a stop in a large room.

It was some kind of storage room of sorts. A bookshelf was thrown aside, pots shattered, books scattered, crates broken down to boards.

And the whole room was filled with Darkspawn.

Khyran's reaction was instantaneous. Lightning bolts sailed. Solas struck out with ice and pushed them back. Bull retreated further back with Rhys to place him on the ground a safe distance away before his axe was in his hands and he charged into the fray, horns down. Evangeline's sword rang out of its sheath and she felled a Darkspawn mere seconds later.

The room filled with their blood and screeches and the pale creatures were all lying dead before Khyran knew what had happened. Not a single Darkspawn laid a scratch upon them.

As Bull picked the entrails from his horns, Khyran stepped past the dead Darkspawn to the other end of the room, where a heavy Dwarven door stood partially opened. Once Bull retrieved Rhys, Khyran walked through.

By the light of his staff, he saw they had entered a gigantic room, and some ways across from them, he saw the distinctive glow of red lyrium illuminating a few Dwarven buildings. His heart gave a jolt. Was this it? Had he somehow found the right place?

Khyran walked, and then he ran. He heard the quickened footfalls of his companions behind him. He found himself standing atop elevated land, his glowing staff shining brighter still as he surveyed everything below him- the buildings, the red lyrium, and the twenty-or-so people standing amongst the buildings with their weapons drawn. He had no intention to be stealthy. There was no time to waste.

An arrow glanced off a shield of mana. Then, several more hit the invisible barrier in front of Khyran's body. He stood his ground and made no move to attack. Bull placed Rhys back on the ground nearby and made to charge into the midst of the smugglers, but Khyran thrust out a hand to stop him. He didn't take his eyes off the smugglers below.

"Here he goes again." Bull growled under his breath.

"Stop! I am Inquisitor Khyran Trevelyan! Abandon this operation and leave the Deep Roads, and I will ensure your lives are spared! I do not wish for any more violence!"

Some of the smugglers cowered back in fear, but others sneered. They either didn't believe him, or didn't care. Khyran was, alas, used to these sorts of outcomes. It was rare for him to sway those who meant to be his enemy, and it brought him no joy to snuff out sentient life.

"Attack!" One of the smugglers screamed. A handful of them turned tail and ran. But the rest charged and opened fire again. Bull slid down the slope, Evangeline followed behind him, and Khyran smashed his staff down.

Thunder boomed.


	12. Varric: Blasphemy

_A/N: I wanted to thank you all for continuing to read and enjoy the story. I've been out of the fanfic game for a while so I'm a bit rusty. But so long as some of you enjoy this, it's worth writing, as difficult as it has been to write well. I hope I'm doing at least something right._

_Hope you all enjoy where the story will go from here._

**TWELVE**

Varric teetered somewhere between waking and sleeping. Every time his mind drifted he would jolt awake again. He couldn't give in to exhaust. If Cole died while he slept he would never forgive himself. So he remained vigilant, watching for any sign that life was ebbing away in the young man he held. He didn't even notice the injury in his own arm. Not all the blood that coated his clothes belonged to Cole. The stinging in his shoulder felt more like a minor annoyance in the back of his head.

After the kid had fainted, Varric panicked. He remembered shaking Cole, cursing, yelling at him and dumping water on his face, but to no avail. He gave up trying to wake the kid. He knew he was still alive- he was breathing and his face was still warm. Varric just wasn't sure how much longer he would last.

For now, there was no change. Cole remained comatose but alive. All Varric could do was keep the fever down and try to clean his surface wound, but he felt such attempts were futile. The infection was obvious on the outside- the flesh around the cauterized wound red and puffy and filled with pus. He only imagined what was going on with Cole's body on the inside. Varric had heard horror stories about blood poisoning, and worse still, internal damage. If the arrow hit his stomach it would have punctured through and digestive acids would be free to spill out and damage delicate innards. If the intestines were pierced… well… the implications of that were even worse to imagine. A horrible infection was inevitable. Varric wondered how many hours he would even have left to live. And in the end… were those last few hours of life worth it?

Why was he even doing this?

He could pick up Bianca and shoot Cole between the eyes. It would be quick and the kid wouldn't have to suffer like this. Then he could open the door and kill as many smugglers as possible before they would cut him down. Better that than to starve to death in here, with his last memories the lifeless corpse of the young man he tried so hard not to care about.

He always feared losing his family again, just as he had lost Merril and the others. And now he was trapped behind a door in the Deep Roads, just like what had happened on that fateful expedition so long ago. He felt like whatever god or gods existed out there beyond the Fade were mocking him. He wondered what the Maker thought. What a pathetic little struggle all these little people must have, caught up in their endless wars and stumbling in the dark, clinging to the futility of love.

If Varric were an all-powerful god, he would have destroyed this world. It would have been a kinder fate.

With great care, he eased Cole from his lap onto one of the unrolled sleeping mats. The kid twitched but remained otherwise limp. Varric tugged at Cole's torn and tattered leathers, trying his best to cover up the ugly red wound on his stomach. Then he sat at the kid's side, sweeping a hand over his brow, brushing away the hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

"If you were awake… I'd ask you what you'd want. I really would." Varric struggled to speak past the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you sooner. It was hopeless from the start. I should've… I should've…" His throat burned and his eyes stung. He knew what he had to do. He was just delaying the inevitable. He would give anything just to be able to talk to the kid one last time, to be sure Cole could hear him, that he understood. Whether or not he could hear him, it didn't matter. He needed to speak, even if he might as well be speaking to the floor.

He kept his hand on Cole's brow as he spoke, no longer fighting tears. "I'm sorry. I thought I knew what was best. What you would want in the long run. I didn't give you enough credit. Khy and I made you into something you weren't… and now you're going to die. This is all my fault. I wish I could take all this away." He removed his hand from Cole and pulled Bianca off of his back. His hands quaked.

"You never… did anything wrong, Cole. You always meant to do the right thing… you never wanted to hurt anyone. I wish more people were like you. Before I… before I go fight the smugglers I'm going to write about you. I'll write as much as I can fit on whatever parchment I have. Someone's… someone's got to find this place and you won't be…" He swallowed thickly. His hands shook so much he could hardly pull the bolt back in Bianca's chamber. When it clicked into place he felt his heart rend. He aimed Bianca between Cole's eyes, his finger on the trigger. "You won't be forgotten."

Something exploded in Varric's ears. The shock was so great he dropped Bianca, both hands smacking to his ears. The boom was so loud, so concrete he felt it vibrating in his chest. He gaped wildly for breath and spun around, facing the barred door. Moments later, his brain caught up with him. That was thunder. And thunder didn't happen undeground.

Not without a mage.

Then he heard the screaming. Chaos boomed outside and Varric wondered if he was going mad. Surely… surely it wasn't anyone he knew. It had to be a Darkspawn mage- one of the horrible emissaries! Yet… the more he listened, the more he realized that he heard nothing but human voices outside.

And then one voice rang clear above the others. "You like that!? You want some more!? Bastards!" It sounded exactly like Bull.

Varric's heart gave a jolt. He grabbed Bianca off the ground. He didn't know what he was feeling. "Hope" wasn't the word. What drove his feet towards the door was desperation. He pulled at the locks and latches and swung the door open. He felt breathless, could barely think. Varric burst out into the chamber, firing Bianca at any smuggler he saw without thinking twice.

Someone might have been calling his name, but he didn't hear anything. His ears were still ringing from the thunder, but now there was nothing but silence in his head. It was as if a fog had filled his senses, that his only purpose was ridding the cave of every smuggler that moved.

There was a woman in armor fighting alongside Khyran. Varric saw her run a man through with her sword, then she was attacked by another. He saw the glint of metal against her shield and the woman in armor fell back. It felt almost as if everything was in slow motion. He aimed Bianca and fired. The bolt struck the man in the back of the head and he collapsed, convulsing.

Varric reached for another bolt. He found his satchel of ammo was empty. He cursed- how could he have gotten so careless!? Varric snagged a small knife from his boot and readied it, snarling, gaze snapping around the room like a wounded animal.

All the motion ceased. Only bodies, some coughing and moaning, some splattered in gore, littered the floor. And familiar figures stood over them, weapons still drawn but slowly relaxing. Varric stumbled backwards against the wall. His back met the smooth stone and he slid down until he fell to his knees. He dropped Bianca and his palms smacked against the ground. Varric coughed. His chest burned.

He heard the rush of footsteps and his name called. He lifted his head wearily. Khyran and Solas were at his side in an instant. Iron Bull and the armored woman were standing back, watching with concern and breathing hard. He felt someone's hands against his shoulder. It hurt.

"Varric! It's okay. We're here. Everything's going to be okay. Solas, help him." Khyran didn't even try to hide the panic from his voice.

Varric pushed himself off the ground to a seated position and shook his head. He held up his palms towards the Inquisitor. Then, he laughed. It all ripped out of him at once, tired, aching laughter that wheezed in his chest and tore at his heart. He was not happy. It was agony. If this was some game of the Maker's, it was a cruel game… Varric didn't know whether to be overjoyed or enraged. When he finally caught his voice he gestured to the open door near him. "D… don't have a cow over me, Inquisitor… this blood's not mine…" He choked. "Cole. Help him. Please. Help him…"

Khyran squeezed Varric's shoulder gently and stood up.

"I'll go get Rhys." Bull said.

Khyran nodded. To Evangeline, he said, "can you do what you can for Varric? He might be hurt." Without another word, he lurched into the house.

The woman in armor dragged herself over towards Varric and he tried to regard her. For some reason, his head swam and his vision blurred. He tried to blink himself back into focus.

"Are you… Evangeline…?" He asked. "They found you…?"

"They did," she said, her voice heavy. She didn't bother sheathing her sword- she dragged it behind her and it trailed blood across the ground. "Are you alright?"

"Andraste's tits…" Varric moaned. Why wouldn't they stop asking about him!? "I… should get in there. Cole… he's…"

Evangeline's face blanched. She didn't ask any questions. She made her way to Varric and offered him a hand. He grasped her hand and stood. They both moved inside the house, and soon Iron Bull had joined them at the door. He had to move in sideways and duck down his head low so his horns wouldn't get caught. He was carrying a man in his arms- a pale and bedraggled looking man that Varric could only assume was Rhys.

He was glad they found Rhys and Evangeline in one piece... but he wasn't sure if he had much heart to celebrate. Not yet.

When he approached Cole, he found Khyran and Solas seated at either side of him. Solas had pulled back Cole's armor and linens and was examining the injury with a grave expression. Varric felt hopeless just looking at him.

"He was shot. I... don't remember how long ago. Several hours. Maybe a day..." Varric swallowed. "I don't know... if the arrows were poisoned or not."

"If they were poisoned he'd probably be dead already." Solas said, his face drawn in concentration.

"Can you save him?"

"I will try." Solas focused, and Varric felt his skin prickle. A green light issued from the Elf's fingertips and he pressed them against the wound. "I understand you had no choice when you ripped the arrow out. He may have bled to death if you hadn't. But it has done a lot of damage to him. I… feel a great tear inside him, fluids spilling where they shouldn't be... It is impressive he has lived so long."

"Can you… mend it?"

"With great care and concentration. Bones and cuts are one thing… but organs…" Solas pressed his lips into a thin line. "It will be easy to make grave mistakes. Healing magics are not my speciality."

"You've strained yourself, helping Rhys and Evangeline..." Khyran murmured. "Will… you be alright?"

"You underestimate me, Inquisitor."

"I… I wish I could help." Khyran rubbed his forehead. "Why didn't I take my training at the Circle more seriously…"

"The best you can do now is leave." Solas told him. "I need to be able to concentrate on this."

Varric felt reluctant to leave. After holding Cole for so long, he felt like he should stay… as if it would somehow improve Cole's chances for him to know that he was still here to hold his hand. But the look on Solas's face spoke of finality, and Varric had not the strength to argue with that.

Someone else in the room, however, did have the strength. Someone blurted into the somber silence and Varric looked up.

"Wait."

It was a voice Varric did not recognize, coming from the man in Iron Bull's arms. "At least… let me stay…" He urged, his voice strained with weakness and emotion. "Let me stay here… let me watch. I… I won't speak. I just want… to be here if he…" The man didn't finish the thought.

"Very well." Solas answered. "I believe it would be best if the rest of you left for now."

Evangeline started to speak, then stopped. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Iron Bull set Rhys down on one of the other unoccupied sleeping mats in the room. He straightened and gave Solas a wearied look. "Do what you can for Cole," his voice was unusually soft.

Evangeline walked up to Rhys, knelt down and kissed him. She whispered something in his ear, but Varric couldn't hear what it was. She swept her hand across Rhys's brow and then straightened. Her footsteps clipped across the room and she disappeared outside.

"We should get rid of that red lyrium while we're here, Boss." Bull said as he left alongside Khyran. "Not much else we can do."

Varric was the last to leave. He didn't look back at Cole. He couldn't.

He'd leave it in Solas's hands. He was even tempted to pray.


	13. Khyran: Duality

**THIRTEEN**

"Varric. You need to sleep."

The dwarf ignored Khyran in favor of his relentless pacing in front of the closed door. Khyran rubbed at his face with both hands. He, Bull and Evangeline had just returned from destroying all traces of Red Lyrium in this part of the cave. Now, the others were setting up a campsite nearby. Varric would need some convincing to join them.

"Worrying yourself sick isn't going to make Solas work any faster. You're just going to give him more to patch up when he's done."

The only sound from Varric in response were his shuffled footsteps. Khyran's eyes followed him as he walked back and forth, back and forth. Varric's eyes were bloodshot, his face shining with sweat, his steps shambled. The dwarf looked about ready to topple over at a gentle breeze, if there was ever one to be found in this dark place. It was hard to watch.

"This is an order."

Varric finally stopped pacing and didn't look at him. His eyes fixed themselves on his shoes.

"You look like you haven't slept or eaten in days." Khyran walked nearer to him. "And I think you've been hurt. Your shoulder. Something's cut you."

"It's just my damn shoulder."

"Varric. Come."

On rare occasions like this, authority had its perks. Khyran finally managed to lead Varric away from the door and to the campsite. Bull was cleaning the blood off of his axe, seated near the fire in solemn silence. Evangeline was poking something in a small pot with a spoon. Probably the last of the vegetables and salted meats. Khyran urged Varric to sit down on a mat and Evangeline handed him a bowl. Varric held it without lifting the spoon.

Silence lingered and Khyran found it uncomfortable. He wondered if he should say something to break it but he wasn't entirely sure what. There was little room for small talk in a situation like this. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Varric spoke.

"Not sure what the Maker thinks of the rest of us… but he's got his eyes on you, Inquisitor. You're worth something to him, at least."

Eyes turned to Varric and no one said anything. Khyran felt a lump form in his throat.

"Cole… wanted to find Rhys. I tried to stop him. I tried to bring him back to the ranch but he wouldn't listen…" Varric let out a trembling sigh. "I was in there for hours… holding him. I… couldn't do it. Watching him suffer… I almost shot him in the head. I had Bianca pointed at him… I was going to do it."

While Varric spoke, Khyran eased his pack off his shoulders and pawed through it. He found some poultices and bandages and sat down next to Varric. Through the rips in Varric's jacket and tunic, he could see a mess of blood against his skin. With a wet cloth he wiped away the blood on Varric's shoulder. Something had cut him deep, but it was hard to tell what did it. A blow from a dagger or sword, perhaps. He rubbed the ointment over the injury and began to bind it with the bandaging. Varric ignored the treatment as he spoke.

"I should've just let Solas take over with that amulet business. All the… humanity he's got… it's what's killing him. If he was a spirit he could just…" Varric didn't finish the thought.

"None of us could have expected this to happen." Khyran replied, securing the bandage in place. "Don't blame yourself, Varric."

"What else should we have expected?" Varric said. "He was a spirit of _compassion_. He senses pain and suffering and goes to ease it, it's who he is, what he lives for. Of course he would let himself get hurt to help someone else. As a spirit he could've mitigated that consequence, but now…"

"We don't know what would have happened."

Varric didn't have anything else to add, but by the look on his face, Khyran could tell he was unconvinced. After the silence lingered for a few minutes, Evangeline spoke.

"Do you… mean to say that Cole is human?"

At first, Khyran was taken aback by the comment. Then, he realized he hadn't had the chance to fully explain the situation to Rhys and Evangeline. They still thought Cole was entirely spirit. "Forgive me, I should have clarified it sooner…" He said. Next to him, Varric had finally started to eat his stew. "Cole was afraid of being bound and losing his free will. He wanted Solas to bind him so someone else wouldn't be able to. Instead, we found an alternative. An amulet to make him immune to being bound." He frowned. "The amulet wouldn't work when we tried it. Something was disrupting its powers. A lingering grudge."

Evangeline narrowed her eyes in confusion. Khyran continued.

"The Templar responsible for locking up and forgetting about the original Cole was still alive."

"The human boy that the spirit became." Evangeline nodded. "I've seen his memories."

"Well… Cole was confused and angry about the Templar. He felt it would be justice that the Templar be killed, because of how the boy suffered and died due to the Templar's negligence. But Varric, Solas and I were there. And we knew it would be dangerous for Cole if he gave in to such dark feelings. He could have become a demon. So Solas and Varric… argued with me about Cole's options. Solas felt if he embraced his identity as a spirit, forgave the Templar, and gave up his identity as Cole, the amulet would work and he wouldn't be vulnerable to binding. Varric said if Cole faced his feelings and worked them out with the Templar as a human would, he would embrace the identity of his humanity and thus, the amulet would not be necessary because he would be a spirit no longer."

Evangeline still seemed confused. "Is that even… possible? For a spirit to become fully human?"

"There are strange things in Thedas. I've never seen a case as strange as Cole's, but it's true. Varric and I talked with Cole and the Templar, as a human would. We convinced Cole to remember his old life, remember his humanity, and remember emotions. He spared the Templar's life. And… something about what happened that day changed him. He slipped from that strange place he occupied between the Veil and the physical world. People don't forget him now, and he has physical needs. The only thing that hasn't changed is his ability to sense pain. So I suppose he isn't _fully_ human, but he's close enough to it to suffer."

Evangeline didn't reply. She stared at the ground with a blank expression, though Khyran could see the contemplation behind her eyes.

"Why did he come to the Inquisition, of all places?" Her voice was hardly audible.

"Because he wanted to help people. I guess he thought the Inquisition was the best place to do it."

Khyran looked over at Varric. The dwarf had finished eating. He sat there staring a thousand yards away. What more was there to say to him? Khyran had no guarantee that Solas could save Cole's life. And even if he did save Cole, would the young man ever be the same again? All they could do was wait, and pray that the Maker had a plan for this somehow.

"Lie down, Varric. I'll wake you up if something happens, okay?"

Varric complied without a word. He set his bowl down and eased himself down onto his back, his eyes gluing themselves shut in moments.

Khyran had no idea how long the would be waiting, but he would remain awake until he heard word from Solas. Neither Evangeline or Bull spoke to him, and thus he remained caught by his own thoughts and prayers. His mind was so full it was difficult for him to focus on one thought at once. Thus, he had no idea how much time passed when he heard the creaking of a door somewhere behind him.

He snapped to attention and turned. Solas was standing a bit lopsided behind the half-open door, hands bloodied, sweat shining on his bald head, one of his shoulders leaning against the doorframe for support.

Khyran thought to wake Varric, but decided against it. The poor dwarf would need rest, and Khyran wasn't sure what news Solas had to offer. He would wake Varric later, but not yet. Not before he knew. Looking to Bull and Evangeline, Khyran stood from his spot on the ground and went to the doorway to meet Solas. He heard the other two following close behind him.

By the look on Solas's face, it was difficult to determine whether he bore good news or bad news. That was typical of him, but now it bothered Khyran more than ever. And for several moments, the Inquisitor and the Elf just watched each other without speaking. The longer the silence lingered, the more Khyran expected the next words to come out of Solas's mouth to be grave.

"I will get to the point, Inquisitor. Cole's body is going to live."

It wasn't reassuring. "His body." Khyran repeated slowly.

"The rest of him is trapped in the Fade."

Khyran cursed. He turned from Solas for a moment, looking towards the sleeping Varric nearby. One of his bony hands lifted to rub an unshaven cheek.

"Is there a way to bring him back to his body?"

"We would need raw lyrium if we want a reliable entry to the Fade where Cole occupies. We do not have raw lyrium and even if we did-"

"Wait." Evangeline spoke up from the doorway. "I have raw lyrium." Solas squinted at the woman. Evangeline continued. "I used to be a Templar. Without a daily dosage of lyrium, I will go into withdrawal and my mind will fracture. I … carry a supply with me at all times. I brought much with me into the Deep Roads."

There was no way for Evangeline to obtain lyrium without the support of the Chantry. Khyran could only assume she was smuggling it from other sources. But now wasn't the time to debate the ethics of the lyrium trade. "We have our lyrium, then. What is the other problem, Solas?" He said.

"The other problem is the fact of Cole's very nature." Solas continued wearily. "The body Cole occupies is one of his own invention. He created himself. He possessed no one's body to enter this world, living or dead. He used the original Cole as a blueprint and copied him in all but magical talent, without possession at all."

"Right. And the problem is?"

"The problem is that he is a _spirit_. Being in the Fade is where Cole is _supposed_ to be. Even if he could be convinced to return to the physical world, there is no guarantee he would return to that body. He may just as well find another person with a similar fate as the original Cole and become them instead. All the memories he would have of us, of Cole, would be gone- replaced with his identity as an entirely different person. And that is assuming he would even want leave the Fade to begin with. He is home now."

"You're saying Cole wouldn't have a _reason_ to come back now!?" Khyran didn't know why the notion offended him so much, but it did. It bubbled in his heart like an overflowing cauldron of acid. "We're his _friends_, Solas! He loves us! He loves the Inquisition!"

"Humanity was not something he was prepared for. He did not have a choice before, but he has one now." Solas responded, his expression still impassive, yet Khyran thought he detected at least the faintest hint of annoyance behind Solas's tone. "If you find Cole in the Fade at all, I anticipate he would have two options. To choose if he wants to be a spirit... or a human being. And no one can make that choice but him."

Khyran didn't say anything. Solas continued. "If he chooses to be a spirit, he will likely stay in the Fade until he hears pain so acute, he comes through the Veil again as he once did. And we have no guarantee he will ever come back to _us_, let alone _remember_ us. If he chooses to be human, he might come back to the body he created. But as far as I have seen recently, his experience as a human has been nothing short of unpleasant. You would need to make a very good case for him to even consider it."

"That's not Cole." Khyran coudn't hide the drops of venom from his tone. "You don't know Cole."

"Do not presume to tell me you know more than I of the Fade." Solas responded, stiffening a little where he stood. "I am familiar with the way spirits think. I have walked with them in the Fade for a very, very long time. And as I recall, Inquisitor, you are no Dreamer."

Those words extinguished the fire within Khyran. He felt ashamed of himself. He took a step away from Solas, just now realizing that he had been all but standing over the Elf, staring him down. "Do you know what is required of us to enter the Fade?"

"I can begin the ritual at any time. I can send any of you through the Veil. It is possible to force a Dwarf and a Qunari into the Fade, but I do not believe it wise. Too many visitors intruding in Cole's place in the Fade may overwhelm him. Since you and Rhys are both Mages, familiar with the challenges of the Fade, I would recommend you both go."

"Good," Bull piped up from the doorway. "I wasn't exactly itching to go back in there after what happened last time. You Mages can keep your freaky dream world."

Khyran nodded. "That's fine." To Solas, he said, "the sooner we start this, the better."

"Aren't either of you gonna tell Varric what's up?" Bull asked.

"You can fill him in if he wakes up. But… I think I'd rather tell him what happens after this ritual. No point in keeping him in suspense any more than he needs to be." Khyran replied. "Evangeline, please go get whatever lyrium you can spare."

"I do not require much. A few drops in a bowl will suffice." Solas told her as she bowed out of the room.

Khyran looked past Solas's shoulder towards the figures on the floor in the center of the room. Rhys was lying on his side, his eyes open, yet he didn't appear to be looking at anyone at all. And Cole's torso was bare, his body cleaned of blood and fresh bandaging wrapped around his middle. He was so thin and frail. He was breathing, but there was no color in him at all, as if it had all drained away from him along with his mind and soul.

A terrifying thought returned to Khyran in that moment of watching Cole, a fear made so much more real by Solas's words to him.

Why would Cole want to go back to that body?

Who in their right mind would want to be human?


	14. Cole: Despair

**FOURTEEN**

"Poor, poor Compassion."

Cole pressed his hands against his ears. He curled into a ball on the floor. He didn't dare open his eyes, else he face the reality again. The voice was all around him, inside him, resounding in his head as if there were thousands of them.

But there was only one demon here, hovering over him and drinking in his despair. He felt its hand clench his shoulder. It would have been reassuring, but its grip was cold and tight, and he felt gnarled fingernails biting his flesh.

"What a waste…" The voice drawled. "You failed your friends. You failed Rhys. You even failed to give Cole a new purpose. You were always wasted on them, Compassion. Or perhaps you were a waste from the start. I'm so, so sorry, dear friend. You were never the most discerning of us."

"I didn't fail anyone. You're lying."

"Come now. Have I ever lied to you, dear Compassion?" Said Despair. "I only ever speak the truth of words other beings are too cowardly to admit."

Cole felt its hand leave his shoulder and he dared to look up. The dark and shrouded figure of Despair paced in front of him, gesturing idly at the air as he spoke.

"I admit… though you were never discerning, you are resourceful. One of the most resourceful spirits I have ever known. Coming through the Veil and becoming a mortal body without stealing the host? It impresses me, Compassion. Truly it does. Alas… it only makes this all the worse, doesn't it? The precious body you made is dead and gone now. You've no friends to return to. How can Rhys bear to forgive you if he knew how foolishly you threw it all away?"

"I am Cole. I am Cole. The body isn't dead. It is mine. I am Cole. I'm going to find Rhys. He will forgive me. I am Cole. I am Cole." He repeated to himself over and over. It was all he could do to stay real, to resist…

"You are no more the mortal Cole than I am the Maker. You know that. Deep down, you never _were _real. Hasn't Lord Seeker Lambert proved that to you once before?"

"I am a person. Varric showed me… he proved…"

"Varric Tethras? That lying, conniving weaver of tall tales? As a spirit you can become what is expected of you to be. I'm sure you'd believe you were Divine Justinia if Varric Tethras made up a convincing enough story to support it."

"Inquisitor Trevelyan is-"

"Is nothing more than an accident. An accident he believes was providence."

"Rhys-"

"Simply pities you. He's always pitied you. Nothing more."

"Stop… stop…"

"Stop what? Speaking the truth? You would rather live comfortably ignorant? I am doing you a service, Compassion. I am shining the light upon the things you have hidden away. I cannot allow one of my brothers to live a lie. It would be oh so very inconsiderate of me."

"Leave me alone!" Cole cried, uncurling from his place on the floor. He shot to attention, crawling up onto his knees as he faced Despair. He raised his voice above the chaos in his mind. "Leave! Get out! **Go**!"

Despair made a tsking sound and sighed, shaking his hooded head. "Pearls before swine." He walked backwards until the shadows swallowed him up and he was gone.

Cole felt his breaths hitching in his chest as he watched Despair leave, his arms shaking at his sides, his eyes wide and wild. Silence enveloped him and he slumped against the ground, clutching at his face. It was a quiet so absolute, there was not even the sound of his own heartbeat, for he had none here. He didn't even have a real body. Never before had he felt so desperately and utterly alone.

_He's right. I'm not Cole._

_I'm not even Compassion._

* * *

There was a wraith on the ramparts.

Sometimes he would come into the Herald's Rest, a shadow known by no name, yet felt in the hearts of all who entered that place. He listened close when he was there, listened to the agony around him and feeding upon it like a hungry dog. He grew from it, grew stronger, gathered it all up and spat it back out until they knew nothing but their pain.

He sat on the table, watching as the people he knew and once loved came and went. Whatever cheer they brought in, they would leave at the door when they left.

He told Bull his life was meaningless. Now hated and outcast by the Qunari, he found no other purpose in life than a strong drink and loose women. Even Krem could no longer call him a captain. And he told Krem, too, that he was nothing more than a farce hiding behind armor that did nothing.

He told Varric that every person he ever loved was doomed to fade away. They would forget his name, forget his stories, and move on without him. Varric retreated into his study until his skin became ashen, writing only tragedies and cutting his heart away from anyone who wished to call him a friend.

He told Cassandra that she would never love again. She wasn't worth loving. Her heart was too hard and her hand too strong. She ruled with a hardened heart, cutting down her foes without mercy, and her heart was closed to all who wished to see her smile.

He told Dorian that he would never be accepted or understood. That he was throwing everything away with misplaced love- for him, and for Tevinter. Instead of staying in Skyhold, Dorian left into the snow, and no one followed.

He told Vivienne she was worth nothing, that she would never amount to any of her ambitions. And with all the gossamer she hid behind, she could not hide from her purposelessness.

He told Sera that in her world of having so many 'friends', no one was more alone than she. An outcast no matter where she went, it didn't matter if she went or stayed. She would always be homeless.

He told Blackwall that he will never honor the life he stole. He burned the barn, destroyed all his carvings, and left to repay his honor-bound debts.

He told Solas that everyone would turn against him if they knew. And they would know eventually.

As he drifted throughout Skyhold, he left the reminders of everything they hated, everything they feared, everything they lost. The people bickered, they grew bitter, and they let themselves descend into ruin. Drunken, stumbling, they fell on their own swords. He sat back and watched. Now, it was all he needed to do. It brought him no happiness or delight to watch Skyhold fall apart at the seams.

But it was his purpose.

He sat on the ramparts, watching the ruin and kicking his feet idly. He was not expecting anything different of today. Perhaps someone else would mysteriously die. Perhaps there would be more defectors. Perhaps they would even begin to kill each other. It did not matter anymore- he wouldn't have to lift a finger. He had thrown the proverbial pebble into the mountains and simply watched as the avalanche fell.

When the two strangers appeared in Skyhold, Despair paused. This was wrong.

He watched the main gates at the two figures as they walked inside. He narrowed his eyes. He recognized those faces. It was Inquisitor Trevelyan and the man named Rhys. A scowl deepened on his face and he listened to them. They could not see him, for he did not want to be seen. The shadows swallowed him up where he sat.

"It's Skyhold." Said Khyran as he stepped into the courtyard. "But… it's wrong. Very wrong."

"It's the Fade. It'll be wrong." Rhys quipped.

"I know, but… shouldn't Skyhold be reflected based on how Cole remembered it?" Khyran said. "Where's… the laughter? The music? The color?" He looked around at Skyhold's citizens, at their blank and grey faces, at the way they carried themselves as if they had a weight upon their shoulders.

"I wouldn't know. I've never really been here." Rhys responded. "Is this not how it's supposed to look?"

"Of course not!" Khyran said, exasperated. "The people of Skyhold are happy." He spun on the spot, examining the fortress as if he was seeing a vandalized painting. "Everything is wrong! It's… like it's been defiled!"

"There must be a demon here, then." Rhys said. "A demon keeping Cole prisoner. Just as before."

"What do you mean?"

"I saved him from a demon once. It was a long time ago." Rhys responded. "It does not surprise me that he would be vulnerable again." Taking his staff into his hands, he nodded to Khyran. "You should take the lead. You know this place more than I."

"It's not my Skyhold, whatever it is…" The Inquisitor responded warily as he crept across the courtyard. Everyone virtually ignored him as he passed. "I recognize these people. Their faces. Cole must be filling this place with his memories of Skyhold's citizens, but…" He trailed, and didn't finish the thought. It didn't need to be said. It was obvious everyone here were merely husks.

Despair watched Rhys and Khyran as they began to scale the stairs that led into the main hall. He swept off the ramparts and landed soundlessly on the ground, then followed after them. They weren't supposed to be here. They needed to leave. He needed to _make _them leave.

Khyran and Rhys walked across the great hall, their footsteps resounding in the emptiness. Everyone inside ignored the two intruders or averted their gaze. When Khyran reached the throne at the end of the hall, he spun on his heel. He faced down the hall, smacked his staff down on the floor and demanded, "I know this is an illusion, demon! Where are you keeping Cole!?"

All the spirits wearing the faces of his friends and citizens looked up at him. Then, they all looked away and did nothing more. It was as if their leader, the Inquisitor, wasn't even there at all.

Silence.

Then, Despair showed himself.

He stepped out into the hall, and Skyhold's citizens parted as he walked forward. The citizens fell back in his wake, cowering and clawing at their faces. He did not look at them. He kept his gaze forward, fixed on Inquisitor Khyran Trevelyan's face.

"I call myself a savior, a saint, yet hundreds fall by my hands and hundreds still." Said Despair as he closed the distance between them. "Andraste's chosen, favored by the Maker, I say this as the bodies pile up around me. I wanted peace, perfection, purity, but pain possesses more power." He could see Khyran's grip tightening on his staff.

He turned and faced Rhys, now halfway across the threshold. "I have no real home left, no family. I always sat on the line, in-between, until it was too late. I wasted too much and Evangeline paid the price. She is still paying the price."

"Shut up, demon." Growled Khyran. "We're here for Cole. Then we're going to leave."

"Cole?" Despair chuckled. "Trying to sweep up the shards of a mess you made? I'm afraid it's too late. Your dear friend Cole is too far gone, all thanks to you."

"Please. Take us to Cole." Rhys said, bowing his head to Despair. "We only wish to talk to him. We did not mean to intrude here." Despair could see the fear in his eyes, the trembling in his hands. He smiled.

"Pathetic, placating, powerless." Despair creeped up towards Rhys, weaving between him and Khyran, circling him like a buzzard. "What would you like, Rhys? Would you like me to show you the extent of the damage? The corpse of the young man you failed to remember?" Despair sneered, his bony fingers curling around Rhys's neck. "He was waiting for you, you know. He wasn't hiding. He wanted proof. Proof that you still cared. You never showed your face."

Rhys obviously tried to keep his expression impassive. But Despair could sense his fear, smell his uncertainty. "I… I didn't know he wanted me to-"

"Excuses." Despair spat. "You were his only friend. What were you expecting?"

"Leave Rhys alone, demon!" Khyran demanded. "Answer to me! Where is Cole!?"

Despair's fingers uncurled from Rhys's neck. He turned, cocking his head. "Of course, Inquisitor. Obviously I am to bow to your every whim. The Maker speaks through you, so, your word is law. No matter what anyone else wants."

"Where. Is. Cole."

Despair did not reply. He merely smiled. He saw Rhys shrinking back, eyes widening in shock, one of his hands pressed to the side of his face. The human staggered until he all but stumbled over the Inquisitor's throne. "No… no… no…" Rhys gasped, shaking his head.

Khyran shot Rhys a wary look. "What's wrong? Rhys!?" He looked from Rhys to Despair, then back to Rhys. "Rhys…?"

Rhys didn't move or speak. Neither did Despair. Silence lingered.

Despair twitched. He hugged his arms against his chest, lowering his head. "...You promised, Inquisitor Trevelyan. You promised. Do you remember?" The demon's allowed his voice a softness even he did not expect.

"What… what did I promise…?"

Despair lifted his head to look at Khyran beneath the hood of his cowl. "You said you would kill me." He stepped forward until he was near Khyran, and he reached out and took his hand. Khyran did not move, merely stared at the Demon, jaw slightly agape. Despair pressed Khyran's hand against the center of his own chest.

"You said you would kill me if I became a demon."

His words froze time. He could have captured the moment in glass- the shock on Khyran's face, the tears in Rhys's eyes. The moment shattered only when Khyran backed away, hand slipping off of Despair's chest. "No. No, this is a trick. A lie. That's… that's what you demons do!"

"He's not lying." Rhys choked.

"I… I can't kill you." Khyran said. "I won't. Cole is still in here, in… in there. He must be…"

"I am Despair. Nothing more. Nothing less." The demon replied. "Kill me. Like you promised. Then it'll be over. I'll be free."

Khyran dropped his staff on the ground and it clattered in a resounding thud. He raised his palms. "No. There has to be another way." He said. "Rhys! Rhys, do something! Give him something to remember! Something to hold on to!"

Rhys tried to stand from the throne, his breaths heavy in his chest. "Cole… do you remember coming through the Veil? For the dying boy? You held his hand… remember…?"

"It did nothing. I could not help him."

"You did help him! You became him!" Rhys shouted, now standing at full height. "You gave up everything to give him another chance!"

"To live a life forgotten and alone."

Rhys approached the demon as he spoke, head held high, eyes alight. "We didn't forget you, Cole. That's why we're here. We're here to bring you back."

"Back to a flawed human body. Do you really want me to suffer like that?"

Rhys placed his hands on the demon's shoulders, looking right into the creature's lopsided face. "Back to a flawed, broken human body in a flawed, broken world." He murmured. "Back to a body that can breathe the scent of honeydew and feel the splash of sun against skin. Back to a hurting world that can grow stronger because it was touched by you. Back to the people who will miss you if you left."

"No… no, it's not worth it. Nothing's worth it- nothing…"

Rhys tugged the demon toward his chest, thrusting both arms behind Despair's back and hugging him tight. "Come back, Cole. I miss you." His grip tightened, holding him even closer. "Come back."

"Rhys, don't- it's a trick!" Khyran cried, running forward. But just as he reached out to grab Despair and throw him away from Rhys, he stopped dead in his tracks. The shrouds upon the demon had fallen away, the shadows lifted, and the darkness retreated.

The person curled in Rhys's embrace was Cole.


	15. Cole: Compassion

**FIFTEEN**

A voice reached down into the empty place and pulled him out. It felt like rising up out of shallow water, bursting past the surface into the waking world. Rhys pulled him up, picked him out of the darkness and the drowning. Air filled his lungs, cold, blessedly cold. The blood left his throat. He felt _feeling _first. Cold fingers, a hand on his brow. a tightness around his stomach, the taste of salt and copper on his tongue. Then the hearing came next. A voice over his head. Footsteps, too. Some heavy, some quick, he should recognize them. Varric and The Iron Bull, they walked like that. Where was he?

"Cole? Can you hear me?"

Sight came to his eyes at last and the room became clear. Dark, chiseled, stone and square. And then he saw the faces. Varric and The Iron Bull near the doorway. Khyran, Solas and Evangeline near a wall. And Rhys, leaning over him, looking down at his eyes. Faces all worry and sadness and relief and misery all at once. He felt it, drank in emotion like water, let it fill him up.

"Thank the Maker- should the Maker be thanked? He's awake, eyes open, chest rising, heart beating. They're all alive. The Inquisitor, foolish and wise, coming here more so. Should have talked to him sooner, my fault, no one's fault. Look, my love, we're all here, all together, at what cost? About time. Time's almost up. I've been keeping track. They'll be worried soon. If they send more it'll be here, too much, all over again." There were too many thoughts. Cole tried in vain to decipher it.

He saw Rhys exhale slowly. He smiled. Pain? Joy? He couldn't tell. The others, their faces were similarly confused. A knot, a tangle, but beginning nowhere and ending nowhere.

"Looks like we got our old Cole back." The Iron Bull said.

"I'm sorry." Cole said, his voice breathy and tight in his chest. One of his hands rose and slipped over his eyes. It took a surprising amount of effort. Why wouldn't his body listen to him? "I let myself get so weak… I let it in, let it swallow me, let it become me… I'm so sorry… how can you forgive me now…? I wanted so badly to show you I was a person, that you didn't have to see me as a monster..."

"None of this is your fault." Rhys said. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I'm sorry I never spoke to you sooner, Cole."

"Despair wasn't right. Don't believe it, please- it wasn't _me_. It's never me. Never, not again." He screwed his eyes shut. "I should have listened to Varric… I should have left…" His eyes grew wet and stung. He tried to blink the tears back. He had cried before in front of Rhys. Had he ever done it again? It was so long ago.

Rhys laughed- not at him. He just laughed a sad laugh. Cole could feel his sadness past the twinkle in his eyes. "You never changed, Cole." He murmured. "You're still the same. Sacrificing everything for your friends… even when it's stupid and can get you killed. I don't care what you were, what you are. You're just Cole. What happened in the Fade… it wasn't you."

Cole lowered his hand from his face. "You… forgive me?"

"Of course, Cole. I was never angry."

Cole placed his hand back over his face, and then his other hand joined it. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to cry, to laugh, to fall asleep. It was a relief like nothing he had felt before. Like those very words pulled a knife out of his side and it didn't bleed. Or it bled out regret until the regret was gone, and what was left was only the joy. Rhys forgave him.

"I'd hug you, but I don't want to hurt you." Rhys said. "Your stomach looked really bad, even after Solas tried to patch you up. Do you feel okay?"

Cole smiled, lips stretched, showed teeth. He felt so, so happy, so at peace… even the searing pain in his gut gave him joy, joy to know he was alive, Rhys forgave him. He would take any pain to hear that again and again and again. "It hurts but it's good, right…? It's good to feel things. I feel things. I feel good things."

"How badly does it hurt?" Solas came nearer to him, kneeling down near Rhys. "I don't know if I can do any more than I already have, but I would like to ease the pain if I can."

But Cole shook his head. His gut hurt like a knife in his flesh but he found it hard to mind it.

Evangeline crossed the room and placed a hand against Rhys's shoulder. "Are you alright? Does your head hurt? What happened in the Fade?"

"What happened in the Fade doesn't matter anymore." Rhys murmured. "And I'm fine, love. My head feels like there's a hatchet lodged in it, but… I'm fine. We'll all be fine now." He turned, looking out at the rest of his friends in the room. "We just need to get out of the Deep Roads now, somehow."

"We can't go back the way we came. But surely if we follow these Red Lyrium mines, we can get out of here." Khyran said. "I don't suppose you're well enough to walk, Rhys?"

"I could certainly try, but I doubt you'd want to keep scooping me up out of the rocks." He said.

"I could carry two of you. Doesn't mean I should." Bull said. "Would probably end up doing more damage than it's worth to sling someone over each shoulder."

"I'll do it." Varric spoke up.

"You sure, Varric? You looked awful earlier." Khyran said.

Varric raised a palm. "I'm fine. Just a bit sore. That little nap picked me up."

Cole lowered his hand and looked over at Varric. Of course. How could he have forgotten? Varric had been the one who stayed with him, holding him, reading to him, his fear draping over him like a heavy blanket. "I can't… make anyone carry me like this. Especially Varric. He's already done so much… he hurts still…"

"I'm not hurting anymore, kid. Let me help you out."

"You've already helped so much… I want to help you. I want to help you by not being helped… you'll hurt."

Varric groaned and rubbed at his forehead. "We don't have a lot of options, kid. Don't be difficult."

"He really is back to normal, isn't he?" Bull said with a chuckle. "In all honesty, though. We've gotta figure something out. Like I said… carrying them both by myself is probably a bad idea."

Eyes turned to Khyran, and he nodded slowly. "We can't waste any more time down here in case more smugglers or Darkspawn show up, and we can't afford the luxury of comfort. Varric…" He turned to Varric. "If you really think you're up for this…"

"I am." He nodded. "Can't say I fancy the idea of staying down here any longer than I have to. I'm pretty sure the rest of you share the sentiment."

Before Cole could object, he felt Varric's arms slip beneath him and lift him up, just as before. A stab of pain in his gut marked his ascent and he leaned his head back against Varric's shoulder, biting back a groan.

"You alright, Kid? Maker's breath, you're a furnace... couldn't help him with that, Solas?"

"As I said. I did all I could." The Elf responded simply. "He needs a proper doctor. We need to get him and Rhys to Skyhold as soon as possible."

Cole snaked his arms around his middle and forced a smile. It wasn't all that bad, not compared to everything else. Though, he had to admit… it would be nice if the pain went away.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Then, he felt something heavy fall over his head, and a shadow draped over his eyes. It was a familiar weight. His hat. He squinted in confusion, then felt someone pat his shoulder.

"Can't forget that. People in Skyhold wouldn't recognize you without it." Said Solas.

"Thank you... I like my hat..." Cole turned his head. The whole room spun around, all tilting in the wrong places. He saw Bull on the wall- no, the floor- picking up Rhys and carrying him like one would a kitten. Good. He felt the splitting, the cracked feeling of bones in Rhys's body. He hated that he couldn't do anything. He was, at least, glad Bull knew to be gentle.

Varric started walking and he felt his legs swaying where they were dangling over the dwarf's arm. Every step he took stabbed into his gut a little deeper. He said nothing. Didn't want Varric to hurt. Didn't want anyone to hurt. They were all hurting. But it was alright. They were hurting but it was the kind that knew it was ending.

They were going home.

* * *

The tracks that led through the mines went up. Inquisitor Trevelyan led them up, winding through tunnels and halls until, mere hours later, they had stepped into pure moonlight and a forest of thick spruce trees. He breathed in the scent of recent rain, listened to the soft earth and leaves squishing in his friends' footsteps. He wished he could walk with them, touch the trees, pick the Elfroot, run his feet through grass. But his body ached, his head hurt, heavy on his shoulders, filled with cobwebs.

His friends had been asking him how he was feeling, trying to give him food and water. His mind wanted it, his body didn't. He didn't understand why it wouldn't want the water. Drinking, even swallowing, it settled against his insides like liquid fire, burning deep inside. He didn't know what to do about it or what to ask for. So often he had heard this pain inside other people, crouched at their bedsides, holding their hands and whispering kindness in their ears. They were in his head, or he in theirs, but he never truly felt it. His body never could until now.

But how could he complain in a time like this?

Varric had given him the canteen of water. He had taken a sip, swallowed against the pain, recoiled against his chest and laughed despite himself. Varric gave him a look, and he told him he laughed because he was happy to be alive. And he didn't complain, not once.

Solas watched for landmarks in the woods and he led them down a beaten road. Two hours passed since they left the Deep Roads, and Cole saw the farm in the distance with the horse ranch. Master Dennit still lived here, tending to the Inquisiton horses. The white one he borrowed was there. He missed her. He missed the feeling of riding upon her back, the wind against his face and the animal's strength against the road. He remembered raising his arms once, closing his eyes and pretending he was flying.

This time would be different, he knew. Varric's pony was too small for the both of them, so The Iron Bull had picked him up and placed him in front of the Inquisitor on his horse. He had not the strength to sit fully upright. He leaned back against Khyran's chest and apologized, but he simply shook his head in response.

"Once we're at Skyhold, Adan and the others will be able to do more to help. They need proper healers, proper rest." Khyran explained as he led the horses to the road. Cole tried to turn his head to see what the others were doing. Evangeline had borrowed one of Master Dennit's horses. Rhys was in front of her, slumped forward so that Cole couldn't see his face.

"We'll ride halfway and stop to camp." Khyran continued. "Six hours. Five if we hurry the horses, but I don't know how much of this Cole and Rhys can take. I don't want to overexhert them."

"Do what you must, Inquisitor." Rhys spoke without lifting his head. "I'd like to be in a real bed sooner than later… but I don't think either of us can handle going straight to Skyhold in this state."

"Amen." Varric punctuated the comment by raising a hand from his pony's reins.

Khyran nodded, then set his gaze on the road ahead. "Are you ready, Cole? This might hurt."

Cole fidgeted, trying to make himself more comfortable. It was hard. Any manner of sitting upright wasn't comfortable. He would've draped himself across the horse's neck if he knew it wouldn't be uncomfortable for the animal. Plus, he might fall off. That would not be good.

"Hya!" The Inquisitor's arms jerked on either side of him. The horse began to move. Cole gritted his teeth, clenching his fists against his thighs. Every jolt of the animal's body was a jolt through his own. He still didn't complain.

Time blended together. Cole looked up at the stars in the sky ahead as the darkened trees sped past. He knew the others were talking at times, but he couldn't hear anything past the galloping of the horse's hooves against the road. The pain in his insides grew sharper and stronger until the burning became a ripping. His arms tightened around his middle and his breaths came with difficulty. Every muscle in his body felt too taut, as if he had lifted the world up and back down again.

A hand pressed against his brow. "Hang on, Cole." He heard Khyran's voice. "We're going to make camp up ahead."

He didn't know why Khyran said that. He still hadn't complained.

Even after the horse stopped moving, he still felt as though it was. A shadow or a ghost of movement, of galloping lingered on him. Khyran nudged him to attention and he looked over at The Iron Bull, standing at the horse's side with his arms up.

"Slide down, I'll catch you."

Cole fell sideways into the Qunari's arms. Moments later, he was on a mat on the ground next to a flickering fire and groaning companions, all standing around rubbing at calloused hands and sore thighs. Aching all around him. But it was an 'almost there' ache. The kind that longed in the hearts and knew it was almost over. He noticed the sound of running water nearby. A creek or a river. Good. The horses could drink and rest, too. His eyes drooped shut. Someone was nudging him, offering him food, but he turned his head away. He wanted it, but he didn't. Sleep felt better, more needed, more tempting. He felt shadows over him- whispers about him. He could hardly tell them apart, his mind drifted so fast.

"Poor kid looks like he died and got up again. Like those monsters in the Mire. At least Rhys still has color in his cheeks."

"That's definitely happened to him once already…"

"He'll make it through the night.. right Solas?"

"Most likely. I will take first watch, if that is sufficient, Inquisitor."

"You've been up so long, though. And all that magic you used…"

"If something happens to Cole or Rhys, I'd prefer to be the one at the ready. It is unlikely that they would worsen, but I do not wish to take the risk."

"Very well."

Cole drifted to a place between the Fade and being awake. The pain in him kept him there like an anchor, and for that, he gave it welcome. Where he was now, it was a place he didn't dream.


	16. Khyran: Beginnings

**SIXTEEN**

By the time the great walls of Skyhold greeted them upon the mountains, Khyran felt sure Cole might shatter in his arms. The poor young man seemed as fragile as a porcelain doll, and great care was needed to pull him off of the horse and carry him into the infirmary along with Rhys and Evangeline. Khyran remembered insisting to Varric that he needed treatment too, but the Dwarf had just waved him off and followed Iron Bull inside. He had spent the rest of the night seated at Cole's bedside and refusing to budge despite the healer Adan's protests.

Most of his inner circle was at Skyhold when he arrived, and it wasn't long before each of them heard the news. Sera seemed generally unconcerned, but Blackwall, Dorian and Cassandra had gone to the infirmary to visit the injured, offering their condolences and get-well-soon wishes. Vivienne in particular had taken quite an interest in speaking to Rhys about delicate matters concerning the Circle and the Rebellion- of which Rhys did not deny he had a part to play. Vivienne had few reservations about voicing her opinions on the matter- though Khyran was thankful the discussion didn't descend into a heated debate. Rhys remained civil.

Khyran awoke on the third morning since his return, his mind filling up on its own accord with a to-do list to rival the length of the Chant. He recalled what Adan had told him last night about his patients. Cole, though he hardly stayed awake for more than a few hours, was on the mend. Rhys was able to move about on his own feet without too much difficulty. Khyran tried not to let their conditions concern him as he slipped into his robes and descended the stairwell to the central hall. He knew there would be more letters than he could count waiting for him in the war room, and that would hardly scratch the surface.

Someone stopped him as soon as he opened the door at the base of the stairs. "Hey, Khy."

It was Varric. Khyran squinted at him and adjusted his collar. "Good morning. Is something wrong, Varric? Are you feeling alright?"

The dwarf gave him a lopsided grin. "Not exactly." He extended an envelope to him. "I know you've probably got a shitload of work to do, but, Adan wanted me to give this to you as soon as I saw you."

Concern overcame him and he tore open the letter. "Did something happen to Cole?"

Varric didn't say anything and let him read.

_Inquisitor, _

_Come do something about this damn kid. Get him out of here or something, I can't do my work if he keeps trying to do it for me, and trust me - he does more harm than good. Please come to the infirmary as soon as possible before he makes things worse for someone else._

_Urgently yours,_

_-Adan_

Khyran's brows furrowed as he read. Then, he looked over the top of the page to Varric. "What… has Cole been doing, exactly?"

"_Helping_ people." Varric said, with a grin that suggested otherwise.

Khyran pinched the bridge of his nose. He supposed he'd have to take care of this first, though he wondered why Adan felt the need to delegate the responsibility to him. If Cole needed to go somewhere else, why not do it himself? He supposed the healer might have his hands full with other patients, or perhaps he felt any decision regarding Cole's welfare should've been left to the one responsible for letting him stay in the Inquisition to begin with. He wasn't sure.

He pocketed the note and headed off down the hall, with Varric following close behind. Down the long flight of stone stairs, out into the courtyard, right, forward, and through the doors into the infirmary building.

It wasn't quite a proper infirmary- not yet. Skyhold as a keep remained a work-in-progress, with forgotten and abandoned halls requiring maintenance, entire sections of walls and buildings needing to be entirely rebuilt, new structures constructed from scratch- there was only so much to be done within a few months. The makeshift infirmary had been populated by as many beds as they could fit, a station for mixing medicines and potions, and a supply of lyrium for the healers.

The first thing Khyran noticed when he entered was that several of Adan's patients were seated upright in their beds, looking rather uncomfortable. The second thing he noticed was the healer himself standing over a certain Cole and pushing him down into his bed. Varric folded his arms and leaned against the doorway, watching.

"Stay. Here. **Right here**!" Adan said.

Cole coughed. "Chest constricted, catching, cracking as the bones cut deep, white-hot and h-"

"Yes, he's got broken ribs! And he doesn't need you hovering over him and **falling on top of him** again!"

"-he wonders when she'll come back, felt fingers flow through hair, pulling at the tangles, smelled like lilac in the lake-"

"And stop it with that… that… whatever you're doing! Just- stop!"

Cole's hand rose shakily, "forget."

Adan gave an exasperated growl and turned. He started when he noticed Khyran standing there looking quite perplexed. "Oh, good, you're here! Take this kid! I can't take him anymore!"

"What is he doing?"

"Freaking out my patients is what he's doing! They say he can bloody read their minds! He says he just wants to help, keeps getting out of the bed and tripping over himself! Nearly put a new crack in this guy's chest this morning!" He jabbed a finger at a rather pale-looking soldier, who was eyeing Cole and cradling his ribcage. "I can't get him to sit still. I turn around for **two seconds** and he's up again, trying to give people water or medicine or... or … **unraveling their deepest fears **or something freaky like that!"

Khyran grimaced with the realization. Of course. Keeping Cole in an infirmary this long was a bad idea in retrospect. "I'm sorry, Adan. I should've known this would happen."

"Eh?"

"Cole **can **read minds. And he does just want to help. But… he's not on the condition to do so." He walked across the room towards Adan, inclining his head towards Cole, who still held his hand in the air, staring at it as if he were betrayed.

"Forget…" Cole said again, his voice hardly above a whisper. Beyond his exhaustion and pallid features, he looked so confused and heartbroken, it almost seemed like he was about to cry. He waved his hand around in little circles. "Forget. _Forget_…"

"How's he doing?" Khyran asked, frowning down at Cole.

"The pain medicine I've been giving him makes him delirious. He's still got a fever. It'll be quite a while before his guts heal up enough for him to eat solid food. Not much else healing magic can do. But he can take liquids and he can sit upright without much trouble." Adan explained. "He can be moved somewhere else- just not **here**. Please."

Khyran grasped Adan's shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'll figure out what to do. Just… tell me what care Cole needs and I'll get him out of your hair."

Adan strode to a desk and began writing furiously on a parchment. "Beyond the obvious… Someone will need to get him nutrition every few hours. Pain medicine every morning and evening after food. Knock him out with a sleeping draught at night. Here- instructions for how to cook up the drink." He took the parchment off the desk and handed it to Khyran. "Try him on solid food in a few days, see how he takes it. For now, just- keep him in bed."

Khyran took the parchment and scanned it over, nodding. "Will he need to be carried or can he walk?"

"Oh, he **can **walk. Reopened his wound when he did. Best to have someone carry him, I think."

Varric walked into the room fully now, his arms still folded, and he gave Khyran a questioning look. "Where, exactly, are you planning to put him? And who is gonna look after him?"

"My room. There's a couch there."

Varric squinted. "You're going to stick Cole on the couch in your quarters? That thing's hard as a rock-"

"No, I'm sticking **myself **on the couch in my quarters." He explained.

"Your room's in a tower up three flights of stairs!"

"Exactly. He won't be able to hear anyone's pain up there."

"What if Cole tries to go down the stairs? He could fall. Plus, you can't exactly afford to watch him for however many days it takes, considering how much you've got to do already."

"I'll find someone to look after him. Take shifts, I don't know." Khyran paused. "What about you? You're not busy, are you?"

"Well, my publisher's about to jump down my throat for the next serial of Hard in Hightown… but, yeah- I can use your desk, it's not much trouble." Varric said, then sighed. "Just not looking forward to climbing all those stairs…"

"I could go get Bull."

Varric shook his head. "He's not here, Inquisitor. Besides, I've been getting soft."

All was said, and Varric scooped Cole up into his arms and headed out the door, with Cole squirming feebly before finally giving up. Adan seemed quite relieved to watch them go.

* * *

Cole's head lolled this way and that as he looked around the unfamiliar room- at the paintings, the tapestries, the view out the great balconies. He shivered as a draft of cold air swept through an open window. His fingers clutched at the bedsheets and tugged them up to his chin, his expression a mixture of confusion and something a bit sick.

"How do you feel, Kid? Comfortable?" Varric asked, out-of-breath from climbing the stairs, but nonetheless concerned for the boy.

"Too quiet. I'm not helping. Everyone was hurting so bad…" He answered in a voice tight with pain.

"You can help them by staying right here, Kid. I'll keep an eye on you for now, alright? Just… let me know when you need anything."

Cole's eyes closed and opened a half-second apart from each other. He stared dumbly at Varric for several seconds, then looked at Khyran. "Where is Rhys…?"

"With Evangeline in the courtyard. He was getting some air, I think. Do you want to talk to him?" Khyran answered.

"Yes."

"I'll go get him later. You should have something to drink."

Khyran had brought a pitcher of water with him when he followed Varric up the stairs. He would get everything else Cole would need later- right now he just wanted to be sure the young man would stay put when he was told. He wondered if Cole was sufficiently far enough away from the rest of Skyhold to rest without being bombarded with everyone else's thoughts and memories. He could only imagine how confusing it was for him while he was already on so much medication.

He poured Cole a cup of water and helped him sit up against a stack of pillows. He drew in a few swallows, then pulled away. He looked up at Khyran's face, suddenly quite distressed. "Why didn't they forget?" He asked. "I tried and tried… when I… when I didn't help I tried to do it again, make them forget, start over-..."

"You can't do that anymore, Cole. You know that."

Cole blinked uncomprehendingly. Then, he flopped back down onto his back, his eyelids drooping. Varric wiped at the sweat on his face with his sleeve.

"You're a person, Cole. A real, flesh-and-blood person, just like the rest of us." Varric reminded him, reaching out to pat him gently on the shoulder. "Rhys was very happy about it. Remember?"

Cole sniffed. Then, his mouth twisted into something that could either have been a grimace or a grin- Khyran couldn't tell. "Can I talk to Rhys now?"

"Yeah. I'll go get him." Khyran said, then turned and headed out the door.

* * *

For a boy so delirious with pain, Cole's stamina for conversation impressed Khyran.

He had brought Rhys to Cole's bedside, where he sat at the edge with his hands folded in his lap. Cole and Rhys talked for hours about everything they could think of. They even laughed as old friends would, though Cole's laugh often left him with a cough and Rhys had to clutch at his chest. Khyran only listened for a few minutes before he had left them in peace, returning quite some time later to find them still talking and Varric asleep in a chair at his desk.

At last, the last vestiges of energy seemed to seep away from Cole, and after ensuring he had something nutritious to drink, the boy fell asleep with Rhys still sitting at his side, staring out at the balcony window with a soft smile on his face. Several moments later, he looked over at Khyran.

"Thank you, Inquisitor. For everything you've done. You saved Evangeline and I on more than one occasion, you accepted Cole and gave him a home here, and you've brought us reconciliation… I don't know how to thank you. You deserve more than my words."

"Don't worry about it." Khyran said. "I'm just happy to help."

Rhys smiled. "Everything that happened in the White Spire seems… so long ago, now. Cole is different. Stronger. Back then, I was his only friend, and he only cared about me, but now he cares about everyone. He has many friends now. And… humanity. True humanity. I… never thought it possible."

"Are you going to stay at Skyhold, Rhys?" Khyran asked quietly, "Continue to serve the Inquisition here rather than out in the field?"

He leaned back a little, looking over at Cole's sleeping face. "I don't know. Cole asked me the same... " He sighed. "There is still so much work to be done throughout Ferelden and Orlais. Evangeline and I were never the type to stay in one place."

Khyran nodded. "Whatever you choose to do, Rhys, I hope you know that you will always be welcome in Skyhold, no matter how long you and Evangeline choose to stay."

Rhys nodded. "I do consider Skyhold that safe refuge. I expect we will come and go, Inquisitor. And Cole understands that, too." He reached over to brush a lock of hair from Cole's closed eyes. "He never had a good father. The boy who died… he was so cruelly abused. Did you know that?"

Khyran frowned and shook his head. "He never said much about his past life. Only that Templars captured him and forgot about him in the dungeons of the White Spire. I don't really know much else. Bits and pieces."

Rhys nodded solemnly. "His father abused his entire family when he learned his children were Mages. Cole had a little sister. Bunny. Because of his father, Bunny died in Cole's arms, and his mother was killed, too. He stabbed his father to death, and then the Templars came for him. He was... only a small child at the time. Couldn't have been older than twelve."

Khyran had no idea. His heart hurt to hear the story, to learn these things about Cole after so many months of knowing him.

Rhys continued. "The spirit who became Cole kept all his memories- his past- his emotions… I don't know how the spirit managed to become that way and I don't care. To me, Cole is the same person now as he was then."

"He is." Khyran agreed quietly.

Rhys smiled over at Khyran. "He's always needed someone like you, Khyran. I'm afraid I didn't do right by him in the time I knew him at the Spire. I was too busy trying to help him, to fix him, to figure out about his condition... "

"You did help him, Rhys. Don't sell yourself short."

Rhys sighed. "I know. Now… is a bad time to be dwelling on regrets." Then, he reached over and placed a hand on Khyran's arm. "Everything's going to be fine. Thanks to you."

Khyran never knew how to deal with compliments. He very well knew a lot of people were relying on his quick-thinking and hard decisions- decisions that often had a domino-effect on people, for good or ill. He never knew how to properly handle that responsibility. He would just resort to his default explanation.

"It's not me. It's the Maker," he answered.

"Now you're selling yourself short." Rhys quipped.

Khyran chuckled lightly. "Well… if the Maker's hand is in my life or not… I could say I'm just very lucky to have you thanking me right now. It could be quite the opposite, had the situation ended up differently. My, uh, rash decisions could have ended up getting a lot of people killed."

"But they didn't."

"Yeah. They didn't."

* * *

Cole, Khyran, Evangeline, Rhys and Varric sat at the table in the tavern, watching as the boy enjoyed his first real meal in two weeks. Rhys had promised to stay until Cole was feeling better, then he and Evangeline were going to go back to the roads, hoping to find mages who needed help and recruiting them into the Inquisition. Though he was sad that Rhys was going to leave, Cole knew it would not be forever.

There was color in his cheeks, a life, a happiness in him that Khyran had never seen before. Even beneath the shade of his hat, Khyran could see him smiling, savoring each bite of his meal as if a little world was contained in each one. The Inquisitor found that when Cole was happy, his aura was contagious.

After taking a sip of water from his cup, something occurred to Cole and he smacked his cup down on the table with such speed, water sloshed out onto his hand. He looked over at Varric. "I just remembered something."

Varric blinked over at him, lowering a chalice of wine from his lips. "Yeah, kid?"

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Interrupting cow."

"Interrupting cow w-"

"Moo."

Cole said it with such pure conviction, such **intensity**, that Varric couldn't help but to laugh.

And then, everyone was.

* * *

_A/N: And that's it. Thanks for reading and enjoying, everyone. I know there were parts of the story that were a bit weak, but I enjoyed writing it regardless._  
_I already have an idea for another story. I will probably start writing it soon! And hopefully the second time around I'll do a bit of a better job. _

_Again, thanks to everyone who's read and enjoyed it!_


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